THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


MRS.  L.  T.  MEADE. 


Polly  : 


A  New- Fashioned  Girl 


By 

L.  T.   Meade 


Illustrated 


New  York  and   Boston 

H.   M.  Caldwell  Company 


Publishers 


ps 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTK*  FAG« 

I.  A  GREAT  MISFORTUNE 5 

II.  ALL  ABOUT  THE  FAMILY 10 

HI.  "  BE  BRAVE,  DEAR." 14 

IV.  QUITE  A  NEW  SORT  OF  SCHEME 20 

V.  A  SAFETY-VALVE 36 

VI.  POLLY'S  RAID 31 

VII.  THE  GROWN-UPS 36 

VIII.  SHOULD  THE  STRANGERS  COME  ? 43 

IX.  LIMITS ,  50 

X.  INDIGESTION  WEEK 57 

XI.  A — WAS  AN  APPLE  PIE 64 

XII.  POTATOES— MINUS  POINT 73 

XIII.  INTHEATTIC 78 

XIV.  AUNT  MARIA 87 

XV.  PUNISHMENT 96 

XVI.  DR.  MAYBRIQHT  versus  SCORPION. 104 

XVII.  "  WHERE  ARE  THE  CHILDREN  ?  " 112 

XVIII.  THE  WIFE  OF  MICAH  JONES 118 

XIX.  DISTRESSED  HEROINES 126 

3 


222624S 


CONTENTS. 


XX.  Lours 13° 

XXT,  THE  HIGH  MOUNTAINS v  135 

PART  II. 

I.  A  COUPLE  OF  BARBARIANS 140 

II.  A  YOUNG  QUEEN 146 

III.  Nor  LIKE  OTHERS 160 

IV.  A  YOUNG  AUSTRALIAN 166 

V.  FORSAKEN 175 

VI.  WITHOUT  HER  TREASURE 184 

VII.  MAGGIE  TO  THE  RESCUE 191 

VHI.  THE  HERMIT'S  HUT le8 

IX.  AN  OLD  SONG 206 

X.  LOOKING  AT  HERSELF 213 

XI.  THE  WORTH  OF  A  DIAMOND 221 

XII.  RELICS  ANDAWELCOME 229 

XIII.  VERY  ROUGH  WEATHER 236 

XIV.  A  NOVEL  HIDING-PLACE 245 

OKI 

XV.  A  DILEMMA 

2K5 

XVI.  FIREFLY 

XVII.  TOTHE  RESCUE 262 

MO 

XVIII.  OH,  FIE!  POLLY 

XIX.  ONE  YEAR  AFTER 279 


POLLY :  A  NEW-FASHIONED  GIRL, 


CHAPTER    I. 

A  GREAT  MISFORTUNE. 

IT  was  an  intensely  hot  July  day — not  a  cloud 
appeared  in  the  high  blue  vault  of  the  sky  ;  the 
trees,  the  flowers,  the  grasses,  were  all  motionless, 
for  not  even  the  gentlest  zephyr  of  a  breeze  was 
abroad  ;  the  whole  world  seemed  lapped  in  a  sort  of 
drowsy,  hot,  languorous  slumber.  Even  the  flowers 
bowed  their  heads  a  little  weariedly,  and  the  birds 
after  a  time  ceased  singing,  and  got  into  the  coolest 
and  most  shady  parts  of  the  great  forest  trees. 
There  they  sat  and  talked  to  one  another  of  the 
glorious  weather,  for  they  liked  the  heat,  although 
it  made  them  too  lazy  to  sing. 

It  was  an  open  plain  of  country,  and  although 
there  were  clumps  of  trees  here  and  there,  great 
clumps  with  cool  shade  under  them,  there  were  also 
acres  and  acres  of  common  land  on  which  the  sun 
beat  remorselessly.  This  land  was  covered  with 
heather,  not  yet  in  flower,  and  with  bracken,  which 
was  already  putting  on  its  autumn  glory  of  yellow 
and  red.  Neither  the  bracken  nor  the  heather  mind 
ed  the  July  heat,  but  the  butterflies  thought  it  a 
trifle  uncomfortable,  and  made  for  the  clumps  of 
trees,  and  looked  longingly  and  regretfully  at  what 

5 


6  POLLY. 

had  been  a  noisy,  babbling  little  brook,  but  was  now 
a  dry  and  stony  channel,  deserted  even  by  the 
dragon  flies. 

At  the  other  side  of  the  brook  was  a  hedge, 
composed  principally  of  wild  roses  and  hawthorn 
bushes,  and  beyond  the  hedge  was  a  wide  dyke,  and 
at  the  top  of  the  dyke  a  wire  paling,  and  beyond 
that  again,  a  good-sized  vegetable  garden. 

From  the  tops  of  the  trees,  had  any  one  been 
energetic  enough  to  climb  up  there,  or  had  any  bird 
been  sufficiently  endowed  with  curiosity  to  glance 
his  bright  eyes  in  that  direction,  might  have  been 
seen  smoke,  ascending  straight  up  into  the  air,  and 
proceeding  from  the  kitchen  chimneys  of  a  square- 
built,  gray  house. 

The  house  was  nearly  covered  with  creepers,  and 
had  a  trellis  porch,  sheltering  and  protecting  its 
open  hall-door.  Pigeons  were  cooing  near,  and 
several  dogs  were  lying  flat  out,  in  the  shade  which 
the  wide  eaves  of  the  house  afforded.  There  was 
a  flower-garden  in  front,  and  a  wide  gravel  sweep, 
and  a  tennis-court  and  croquet  lawn,  and  a  rose- 
arbor,  and  even  a  great,  wide,  cool-looking  tent. 
But  as  far  as  human  life  was  concerned  the  whole 
place  looked  absolutely  deserted.  The  pigeons  cooed 
languidly,  and  the  dogs  yapped  and  yawned,  and 
made  ferocious  snaps  at  audacious  and  troublesome 
flies.  But  no  one  handled  the  tennis  bats,  nor  took 
up  the  croquet  mallets  ;  no  one  stopped  to  admire 
the  roses,  and  no  one  entered  the  cool,  inviting  tent. 
The  whole  place  might  have  been  dead,  as  far  as 
human  life  was  concerned  ;  and  although  the  smoke 
did  ascend  straight  up  from  the  kitchen  chimney,  a 
vagrant  or  a  tramp  might  have  been  tempted  to 
enter  the  house  by  the  open  hall-door,  were  it  not 
protected  by  the  lazy  dogs. 


A  GREAT  MISFORTUNE.  7 

Up,  however,  by  the  hedge,  at  the  other  side  of 
the  kitchen-garden,  could  be  heard  just  then  the 
crackle  of  a  bough,  the  rustle  of  a  dress,  and  a  short, 
smothered,  impatient  exclamation.  And  had  any 
one  peered  very  close  they  would  have  seen  lying 
flat  in  the  long  grasses  a  tall,  slender,  half-grown 
girl,  with  dark  eyes  and  rosy  cheeks,  and  tangled 
curly  rebellious  locks.  She  had  one  arm  raised,  and 
was  drawing  herself  deliberately  an  inch  at  a  time 
along  the  smooth  grass.  Several  birds  had  taken 
refuge  in  this  fragrant  hedge  of  hawthorn  and  wild 
roses.  They  were  talking  to  one  another,  keeping 
up  a  perpetual  chatter  ;  but  whenever  the  girl 
stirred  a  twig,  or  disturbed  a  branch,  they  stopped, 
looking  around  them  in  alarm,  but  none  of  them  as 
yet  seeing  the  prone,  slim  figure,  which  was,  indeed 
almost  covered  by  the  grasses.  Perfect  stillness 
once  more — the  birds  resumed  their  conversation, 
and  the  girl  made  another  slight  movement  forward. 
This  time  she  disturbed  no  twig,  and  interrupted 
none  of  the  bird-gossip.  She  was  near,  very  near  a 
tempting  green  bough,  and  on  the  bough  sat  two 
full-grown  lovely  thrushes  ;  they  were  not  singing, 
but  were  holding  a  very  gentle  and  affectionate  con 
versation,  sitting  close  together,  and  looking  at  one 
another  out  of  their  bright  eyes,  and  now  and  then 
kissing  each  other  with  that  loving  little  peck  which 
means  a  great  deal  in  bird-life. 

The  girl  felt  her  heart  beating  with  excitement — 
the  birds  were  within  a  few  inches  of  her — she 
could  see  their  breasts  heaving  as  they  talked.  Her 
own  eyes  were  as  bright  as  theirs  with  excitement ; 
she  got  quite  under  them,  made  a  sudden  upward, 
dexterous  movement,  and  laid  a  warm,  detaining 
hand  on  each  thrush.  The  deed  was  done — the 
little  prisoners  were  secured.  She  gave  a  low  laugh 


8  POLLY. 

of  ecstasy,  and  sitting  upright  in  the  long  grass, 
began  gently  to  fondle  her  prey,  cooing  as  she 
talked  to  them,  and  trying  to  coax  the  terrified  little 
prisoners  to  accept  some  kisses  from  her  dainty  red 
lips. 

«  Poll !  Where's  Polly  Parrot  ?— Poll— Poll- 
Poll  !  "  came  a  chorus  of  voices.  "  Poll,  you're 
wanted  at  the  house  this  minute.  Where  are  you 
hiding  ? — You're  wanted  at  home  this  minute  ! 
Polly  Parrot — where  are  you,  Polly  ?  " 

"  Oh,  bother  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl  under  her 
breath  ;  "  then  I  must  let  you  go,  darlings,  and  I 
never,  never  had  two  of  you  in  my  arms  at  the  same 
moment  before.  It's  always  so.  I'm  always  in 
terrupted  when  I'm  enjoying  ecstasy.  Well,  good 
bye,  sweets.  Be  happy — bless  you,  darlings  1 " 

She  blew  a  kiss  to  the  released  and  delighted 
thrushes,  and  stood  upright,  looking  very  lanky  and 
cross  and  disreputable,  with  bits  of  grass  and  twig 
sticking  in  her  hair,  and  messing  and  staining  her 
faded,  washed  cotton  frock. 

"  Now,  what  are  you  up  to,  you  scamps  ? — can't 
you  let  a  body  be  ?  " 

«  Oh,  Polly  !  " 

Two  little  figures  came  tumbling  down  the  gravel 
walk  at  the  other  side  of  the  wire  fence.  They  were 
hot  and  panting,  and  both  destitute  of  hats. 

"  Polly,  you're  wanted  at  the  house.  Helen  says 
so  ;  there's  a  b-b-baby  come.  Polly  Perkins — Poll 
Parrot,  you'd  better  come  home  at  once,  there's  a 
new  b-b-baby  just  come !  " 

"  A  what  ?  "  said  Polly.  She  vaulted  the  dyke, 
cleared  the  fence,  and  kneeling  on  the  ground  beside 
her  two  excited,  panting  little  brothers,  flung  a  hot, 
detaining  arm  round  each. 

"  A  baby !  it  isn't  true,  Bunny  ?  it  isn't  true, 


A  GREAT  MISFORTUNE.  9 

Bob  ?  A  real  live  baby  ?  Not  a  doll !  a  baby  that 
will  scream  and  wriggle  up  its  face  !  But  it  can't 
be.  Oh,  heavenly !  oh,  delicious !  But  it  can't  be 
true,  it  can't!  You're  always  making  up  stories, 
Bunny ! " 

"Not  this  time,"  said  Bunny.  "You  tell  her, 
Bob — she'll  believe  you.  I  heard  it  yelling — oh, 
didn't  it  yell,  just !  And  Helen  came,  and  said  to 
send  Polly  in.  Helen  was  crying,  I  don't  know 
what  about,  and  she  said  you  were  to  go  in  at  once. 
Why,  what  is  the  matter,  Poll  Parrot?" 

"  Nothing,"  said  Polly,  "  only  you  might  have 
told  me  about  Helen  crying  before.  Helen  never 
cries  unless  there's  something  perfectly  awful  going 
to  happen.  Stay  out  in  the  garden,  you  two  boys — 
make  yourselves  sick  with  gooseberries,  if  you  like, 
only  don't  come  near  the  house,  and  don't  make  the 
tiniest  little  bit  of  noise.  A  new  baby — and  Helen 
crying!  But  mother — I'll  find  out  what  it  means 
trom  mother ! " 

Polly  had  long  legs,  and  they  bore  her  quickly  in 
a  swift  race  or  canter  to  the  house.  When  she 
approached  the  porch  the  dogs  all  got  up  in  a  body 
to  meet  her ;  there  were  seven  or  eight  dogs,  and 
they  surrounded  her,  impeding  her  progress. 

"  Not  a  bark  out  of  one  of  you,"  she  said,  sternly, 
"lie  down — go  to  sleep.  If  you  even  give  a  yelp 
I'll  come  out  by-and-by  and  beat  you.  "  Oh,  Alice, 
what  is  it  ?  What's  the  matter  ?  " 

A  maid-servant  was  standing  in  the  wide,  square 
hall. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Alice  ?  What  is  wrong  ? 
There's  a  new  baby — I'm  delighted  at  that.  But 
why  is  Helen  crying,  and — oh  ! — oh ! — what  does  it 
mean — you  are  crying,  too,  Alice." 

"It's — Miss  Polly,  I  can't  tell  you,"  began  the 


10  POLLY. 

girl,  She  threw  her  apron  over  her  head,  and 
sobbed  loudly.  "  We  didn't  know  where  you  was, 

miss — it's,  it's We  have  been  looking  for  you 

everywhere,  miss.  Why,  Miss  Polly,  you're  as  white, 
as  white — Don't  take  on  now,  miss,  dear." 

"  You  needn't  say  any  more,"  gasped  Polly,  sink 
ing  down  into  a  garden  chair.  "  I'm  not  going  to 
faint,  or  do  anything  silly.  And  I'm  not  going  to 
cry  either.  Where's  Helen?  If  there's  anything 
bad  she'll  tell  me.  Oh,  do  stop  making  that  horrid 
noise,  Alice,  you  irritate  me  so  dreadfully ! " 

Alice  dashed  out  of  the  open  door,  and  Polly 
heard  her  sobbing  again,  and  talking  frantically  to 
the  dogs.  There  was  no  other  sound  of  any  sort. 
The  intense  stillness  of  the  house  had  a  half-stun 
ning,  half -calming  effect  on  the  startled  child.  She 
rose,  and  walked  slowly  up-stairs  to  the  first  land 
ing. 

"  Polly,"  said  her  sister  Helen,  "  you've  come  at 
last.  Where  were  you  hiding  ? — oh,  poor  Polly  !  " 

"  Where's  mother  ?  "  said  Polly.  "  I  want  her— 
let  me  go  to  her — let,  me  go  to  her  at  once,  Nell." 

"  Oh,  Polly " 

Helen's  sobs  came  now,  loud,  deep,  and  distressful. 
There  was  a  new  baby — but  no  mother  for  Polly 
any  more. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ALT.    ABOUT    THE    FAMILY. 

DR.  MAYBBIGHT  had  eight  children,  and  the  sweet 
est  and  most  attractive  wife  of  any  man  in  the 
neighborhood.  He  had  a  considerable  country  prac 
tice,  was  popular  among  his  patients,  and  he  and  hia 


ALL  ABOUT  THE  FAMILY.  H 

were  adored  by  the  villagers,  for  the  Maybrights 
had  lived  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  little  village 
of  Tyrsley  Dale  for  many  generations.  Dr.  May- 
bright's  father  had  ministered  to  the  temporal  wants 
of  the  fathers  and  mothers  of  these  very  same 
villagers ;  and  his  father  before  him  had  also  been 
in  the  profession,  and  had  done  his  best  for  the 
inhabitants  of  Tyrsley  Dale.  It  was  little  wonder, 
therefore,  that  the  simple  folks  who  lived  in  the 
little  antiquated  village  on  the  borders  of  one  of 
our  great  southern  moors  should  have  thought  that 
to  the  Maybrights  alone  of  the  whole  race  of  man 
kind  had  been  given  the  art  of  healing. 

For  three  or  four  generations  the  Maybright 
family  had  lived  at  Sleepy  Hollow,  which  was  the 
name  of  the  square  gray  house,  with  its  large 
vegetable  garden,  its  sheltered  clump  of  forest  trees, 
and  its  cultivated  flower  and  pleasure  grounds. 
Here,  in  the  old  nursery,  Polly  had  first  opened  her 
bright  blue-black  eyes;  in  this  house  Dr.  May- 
bright's  eight  children  had  lived  happily,  and  en 
joyed  all  the  sunshine  of  the  happiest  of  happy 
childhoods  to  the  full.  They  were  all  high-spirited 
and  fearless ;  each  child  had  a  certain  amount  of 
individuality.  Perhaps  Polly  was  the  naughtiest 
and  the  most  peculiar ;  but  her  little  spirits  of  in 
subordination  speedily  came  to  nothing,  for  mother, 
without  ever  being  angry,  or  ever  saying  anything 
that  could  hurt  Polly's  sensitive  feelings,  had  always, 
with  firm  and  gentle  hand,  put  an  extinguisher  on 
them. 

Mother  was  really,  then,  the  life  of  the  house. 
She  was  young  to  have  such  tall  slips  of  daughters, 
and  such  little  wild  pickles  of  sons ;  and  she  was 
so  pretty  and  so  merry,  and  in  such  ecstasies  over  a 
picnic,  and  so  childishly  exultant  when  Helen,  or 


12  POLLY. 

Polly,  or  Katie,  won  a  prize  or  did  anything  the 
least  bit  extraordinary,  that  she  was  voted  the  best 
playfellow  in  the  world. 

Mother  was  never  idle,  and  yet  she  was  always  at 
leisure,  and  so  she  managed  to  obtain  the  confidences 
of  all  the  children ;  she  thoroughly  understood  each 
individual  character,  and  she  led  her  small  brood 
with  silken  reins. 

Dr.  Maybright  was  a  great  deal  older  than  his 
wife.  He  was  a  tall  man,  still  very  erect  in  his 
figure,  with  square  shoulders,  and  a  keen,  bright, 
kindly  face.  He  had  a  large  practice,  extending 
over  many  miles,  and  although  he  had  not  the 
experience  which  life  in  a  city  would  have  given 
him,  he  was  a  very  clever  physician,  and  many  of 
his  brothers  in  the  profession  prophesied  eminence 
for  him  whenever  he  chose  to  come  forward  and 
take  it.  Dr.  Maybright  was  often  absent  from  home 
all  day  long,  sometimes  also  in  the  dead  of  night 
the  children  heard  his  carriage  wheels  as  they  bowled 
away  on  some  errand  of  mercy.  Polly  always 
thought  of  her  father  as  a  sort  of  angel  of  healing, 
who  came  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  and  took 
illness  and  death  away  with  him. 

"  Father  won't  let  Josie  Wilson  die,"  Polly  used  to 
say !  or,  "  What  bad  toothache  Peter  Simpkins  has 
to-day — but  when  father  sees  him  he  will  be  all 
right." 

Polly  had  a  great  reverence  for  her  father,  al 
though  she  loved  her  beautiful  young  mother  best. 
The  children  never  expected  Dr.  Maybright  to  join 
in  their  games,  or  to  be  sympathetic  over  their  joys 
or  their  woes.  They  reverenced  him  much,they  loved 
him  well,  but  he  was  too  busy  and  too  great  to  be 
troubled  by  their  little  concerns.  Of  course,  mother 


ALL  ABOUT  THE  FAMILY.  13 

was  different,  for  mother  was  part  and  parcel  of  their 
lives. 

There  were  six  tall,  slim,  rather  straggling-look 
ing  Maybright  girls — all  overgrown,  and  long  of 
limb,  and  short  of  frock.  Then  there  came  two 
podgy  boys,  greater  pickles  than  the  girls,  more 
hopelessly  disreputable,  more  defiant  of  all  author 
ity,  except  mother's.  Polly  was  as  bad  as  her 
brothers  in  this  respect,  but  the  other  five  girls  were 
docility  itself  compared  to  these  black  lambs,  whose 
proper  names  were  Charley  and  John,  but  who  never 
had  been  called  anything,  and  never  would  be  called 
anything  in  that  select  circle,  but  Bunny  and  Bob. 

This  was  the  family  ;  the  more  refined  neighbors 
rather  dreaded  them,  and  even  the  villagers  spoke 
of  most  of  them  as  "  wondrous  rampageous  !  "  But 
Mrs.  Maybright  always  smiled  when  unfriendly 
comments  reached  her  ears. 

"  Wait  and  see,"  she  would  say ;  "  just  quietly  wait 
and  see — they  are  all,  every  one  of  them,  the  sweet 
est  and  most  heal  thy- minded  children  in  the  world. 
Let  them  alone,  and  don't  interfere  with  them.  I 
should  not  like  perfection,  it  would  have  nothing  to 
grow  to." 

Mrs.  Maybright  taught  the  girls  herself,  and  the 
boys  had  a  rather  frightened-looking  nursery-gover 
ness,  who  often  was  seen  to  rush  from  the  school 
room  dissolved  in  tears ;  but  was  generally  overtaken 
half-way  up  the  avenue  by  two  small  figures,  nearly 
throttled  by  two  pairs  of  repentant  little  arms,  while 
eager  lips  vowed,  declared,  and  vociferated,  that  they 
would  never,  never  be  naughty  again — that  they 
would  never  tease  their  own  sweet,  sweetest  of  Miss 
Wilsons  any  more. 

Nor  did  they — until  the  next  time. 

Polly  was  fourteen  on  that  hot  July  afternoon 


14  POLLY. 

when  she  lay  on  the  grass  and  skilfully  captured  the 
living  thrushes,  and  held  them  to  her  smooth,  glow 
ing  young  cheeks.  Her  birthday  had  been  over  for 
a  whole  fortnight ;  it  had  been  a  day  full  of  delight, 
love,  and  happiness,  and  mother  had  said  a  word  or 
two  to  the  exultant,  radiant  child  at  the  close.  Some 
thing  about  her  putting  away  some  of  the  childish 
things,  and  taking  up  the  gentler  and  nobler  ways  of 
first  young  girlhood  now.  She  thought  in  an  almost 
undefined  way  of  mother's  words  as  she  held  the  flut 
tering  thrushes  to  her  lips,  and  kissed  their  downy 
breasts.  Then  had  come  the  unlooked-for  inter 
ruption.  Polly's  life  seemed  cloudless,  and  all  of  a 
sudden  there  appeared  a  speck  in  the  firmament — a 
little  cloud  which  grew  rapidly,  until  the  whole 
heavens  were  covered  with  it.  Mother  had  gone 
away  forever,  and  there  were  now  nine  children  in 
the  old  gray  house. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  BE  BRAVE,  DEAR." 

"  WASN'T  father  with  her  ?  "  Polly  had  said  when 
she  could  find  her  voice  late  that  evening.  "  Wasn't 
father  there  ?  I  thought  father — I  always  thought 
father  could  keep  death  away." 

She  was  lying  on  her  pretty  white  bed  when  she 
spoke.  She  had  lain  there  now  for  a  couple  of  days 
— not  crying  nor  moaning,  but  very  still,  taking  no 
notice  of  any  one.  She  looked  dull  and  heavy — her 
sisters  thought  her  very  ill.- 

Dr.  May  bright  said  to  Helen— 

"  You  must  be  very  careful  of  Polly,  she  has  had 
a  shock,  and  she  may  take  some  time  recovering.  I 
want  you  to  nurse  her  yourself,  Nell,  and  to  keep  the 


"  BE  BRAVE,  t>EAR."  15 

others  from  the  room.  For  the  present,  at  least,  she 
must  be  kept  absolutely  quiet — the  least  excitement 
would  be  very  bad  for  her." 

"  Polly  never  cries,"  said  Helen,  whose  own  blue 
eyes  were  swollen  almost  past  recognition ;  "  she 
never  cries,  she  does  not  even  moan.  I  think,  father, 
what  really  upset  Polly  so  was  when  she  heard  that 
you — you  were  there.  Polly  thinks,  she  always  did 
think  that  you  could  keep  death  away." 

Here  poor  Helen  burst  into  fresh  sobs  herself. 

"  I  think,"  she  added,  choking  as  she  spoke,  "  that 
was  what  quite  broke  Polly  down — losing  mother, 
and  losing  faith  in  your  power  at  the  same  time." 

"  I  am  glad  you  told  me  this,  Helen,"  said  Dr 
Maybright,  quietly.  "This  alters  the  case.  In  a 
measure  I  can  now  set  Polly's  heart  at  rest.  I  will 
see  her  presently." 

"  Presently,"  did  not  mean  that  day,  nor  the  next, 
nor  the  next,  but  one  beautiful  summer's  evening 
just  when  the  sun  was  setting,  and  just  when  its 
long  low  western  rays  were  streaming  into  the  lat 
tice-window  of  the  pretty  little  bower  bedroom 
where  Polly  lay  on  her  white  bed,  Dr.  Maybright 
opened  the  door  and  came  in.  He  was  a  very  tall 
man,  and  he  had  to  stoop  as  he  passed  under  the  low, 
old-fashioned  doorway,  and  as  he  walked  across  the 
room  to  Polly's  bedside  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun 
fell  on  his  face,  and  he  looked  more  like  a  beautiful 
healing  presence  than  ever  to  the  child.  She  was 
lying  on  her  back,  with  her  eyes  very  wide  open ; 
her  face,  which  had  been  bright  and  round  and  rosy, 
had  grown  pale  and  small,  and  her  tearless  eyes  had 
a  pathetic  expression.  She  started  up  when  she  saw 
her  father  come  in,  gave  a  glad  little  cry,  and  then, 
remembering  something,  hid  her  face  in  her  handa 
with  a  moan. 


10  POLLY. 

Dr.  Maybright  sat  down  in  the  chair  which  Helen 
had  occupied  the  greater  part  of  the  day  He  did 
not  take  any  notice  of  Polly's  moan,  but  sat  quite 
still,  looking  out  at  the  beautiful,  glowing  July  sun 
set.  Wondering  at  his  stillness,  Polly  presently 
dropped  her  hands  from  her  face,  and  looked 
round  at  him.  Her  lips  began  to  quiver,  and  her 
eyes  to  fill. 

"  If  I  were  you,  Polly,"  said  the  doctor,  hi  his  most 
matter-of  fact  and  professional  manner,  "I  would  get 
up  and  come  down  to  tea.  You  are  not  ill,  you 
know.  Trouble,  even  great  trouble,  is  not  illness. 
By  staying  here  in  your  room  you  are  adding  a  little 
to  the  burden  of  all  the  others.  That  is  not  neces 
sary,  and  it  is  the  last  thing  your  mother  would 
wish." 

"  Is  it  ?  "  said  Polly.  The  tears  were  now  brim 
ming  over  in  her  eyes,  but  she  crushed  back  her 
emotion.  "  I  didn't  want  to  get  up,"  she  said,  "  or 
to  do  anything  right  any  more.  She  doesn't  know 
— she  doesn't  hear — she  doesn't  care." 

"  Hush,  Polly — she  both  knows  and  cares.  She 
would  be  much  better  pleased  if  you  came  down  to 
tea  to-night.  I  want  you,  and  so  does  Helen,  and  so 
do  the  other  girls  and  the  little  boys.  See  I  will 
stand  by  the  window  and  wait,  if  you  dress  your 
self  very  quickly." 

"  Give  me  my  pocket-handkerchief,"  said  Polly. 
She  dashed  it  to  her  eyes.  No  more  tears  flowed, 
and  by  the  time  the  doctor  reached  the  window  he 
heard  a  bump  on  the  floor ;  there  was  a  hasty 
scrambling  into  clothes,  and  in  an  incredibly  short 
time  an  untidy,  haggard-looking,  but  now  wide 
awake,  Polly  stood  by  the  doctor's  side. 

u  That  is  right,"  he  said,  giving  her  one  of  his 
quick,  rare  smiles. 


"  BE  BRAVE,  DEAR."  17 

He  took  no  notice  of  the  tossed  hair,  nor  the 
stained,  crumpled,  cotton  frock. 

"  Take  my  arm,  Polly,"  he  said,  almost  cheerfully. 
And  they  went  down  together  to  the  old  parlor 
where  mother  would  never  again  preside  over  the 
tea-tray. 

It  was  more  than  a  week  since  Mrs.  Maybright 
had  died,  and  the  others  were  accustomed  to  Helen's 
taking  her  place,  but  the  scene  was  new  to  the  poor, 
sore-hearted  child  who  now  came  in.  Dr.  May- 
bright  felt  her  faltering  steps,  and  knew  what  her 
sudden  pause  on  the  threshold  meant. 

"  Be  brave,  dear,"  he  whispered.  "  You  will  make 
it  easier  for  me." 

After  that  Polly  would  have  fought  with  dragons 
rather  than  shed  a  ghost  of  a  tear.  She  slipped  into 
a  seat  by  her  father,  and  crumbled  her  bread-and- 
butter,  and  gulped  down  some  weak  tea,  taking  care 
to  avoid  any  one's  eyes,  and  feeling  her  own  cheeks 
growing  redder  and  redder. 

In  mother's  time  Dr.  Maybright  had  seldom 
spoken.  On  many  occasions  he  did  not  even  put 
in  an  appearance  at  the  family  tea,  for  mother  her 
self  and  the  group  of  girls  kept  up  such  a  chatter 
t!iat,  as  he  said,  his  voice  would  not  be  heard  ;  now, 
on  the  contrary,  he  talked  more  than  any  one,  tell 
ing  the  children  one  or  two  most  interesting  stories 
on  natural  history.  Polly  was  devoted  to  natural 
history,  and  in  spite  of  herself  she  suspended  her 
tea-cup  in  the  air  while  she  listened. 

"  It  is  almost  impossible,  I  know,"  concluded  Dr. 
Maybright  as  he  rose  from  the  table.  "  But  it  can 
be  done.  Oh,  yes,  boys,  I  don't  want  either  of  you 
to  try  it,  but  still  it  can  be  done.  If  the  hand  is 
very  steady,  and  poised  in  a  particular  way,  then  the 


18  POLLY. 

bird  can  be  caught,  but  you  must  know  how  to  hold 
him.  Yes — what  is  the  matter,  Polly  ?  " 

"  I  did  it !  "  burst  from  Polly,  "  I  caught  two  of 
them, — darlings — I  was  kissing  them  when — oh, 
father ! " 

Polly's  face  was  crimson.  All  the  others  were 
staring  at  her. 

"  I  want  you,  my  dear,"  said  her  father,  suddenly 
and  tenderly.  "  Come  with  me." 

Again  he  drew  her  hand  protectingly  through  his 
arm,  and  led  her  out  of  the  room. 

"  You  were  a  very  good,  brave  child  at  tea-time," 
he  said.  "But  I  particularly  wish  you  to  cry. 
Tears  are  natural,  and  you  will  feel  much  better  if 
you  have  a  good  cry.  Come  up-stairs  now  to  Nurse 
and  baby." 

"  Oh  no,  I  can't — I  really  can't  see  baby ! " 

"Why  not? — She  is  a  dear  little  child,  and  when 
your  mother  went  away  she  left  her  to  you  all,  to 
take  care  of,  and  cherish  and  love.  I  think  she 
thought  specially  of  you,  Polly,  for  you  always  have 
been  specially  fond  of  little  children.  Come  to  the 
nursery  now  with  me.  I  want  you  to  take  care  of 
baby  for  an  hour,  while  Nurse  is  at  her  supper." 

Polly  did  not  say  another  word.  The  doctor  and 
she  went  together  into  the  old  nursery,  and  a  mo 
ment  or  two  afterwards  she  found  herself  sitting  in 
Nurse's  little  straw  arm-chair,  holding  a  tiny  red 
mite  of  a  baby  on  her  knee.  Mother  was  gone,  and 
this — this  was  left  in  her  place !  Oh,  what  did  God 
mean?  thought  the  woe-begone  broken-hearted 
child. 

The  doctor  did  not  leave  the  room.  He  was  look 
ing  through  some  books,  a  pile  of  old  MS.  books  in 
one  corner  by  the  window,  and  had  apparently  for 
gotten  all  about  Polly  and  the  baby.  She  held  the 


"  BE  BRAVE,  DEAR."  19 

wee  bundle  without  clasping  it  to  her,  or  bestowing 
upon  it  any  endearing  or  comforting  little  touch, 
and  as  she  looked  the  tears  which  had  frozen  round 
her  heart  flowed  faster  and  faster,  dropping  on  the 
baby's  dress,  and  even  splashing  on  her  tiny  face. 

Baby  did  not  like  this  treatment,  and  began  to  ex 
postulate  in  a  fretful,  complaining  way.  Instantly 
Polly's  motherly  instincts  awoke ;  she  wiped  her 
own  tears  from  the  baby's  face,  and  raising  it  in  her 
arms,  pressed  its  little  soft  velvet  cheek  to  her  own. 
As  she  did  so,  a  thrill  of  warm  comfort  stole  into 
her  heart. 

"  Polly,"  said  her  father,  coming  suddenly  up  to 
her,  "  please  take  good  care  of  baby  till  Nurse  re 
turns.  I  must  go  out  now,  I  have  some  patients  to 
see,  but  I  am  going  to  prescribe  a  special  little  sup 
per  for  you,  which  Helen  is  to  see  you  eat  before  you 
go  to  bed.  Good-night,  dear.  Please  ask  Nurse, 
too,  if  you  can  do  anything  in  the  morning  to  help 
her  with  baby.  Good-night,  good-night,  both  of 
you.  Why  the  little  creature  is  quite  taking  to  you, 
Polly ! " 

Dr.  Maybright  was  about  to  leave  the  room  when 
Polly  called  him  back. 

"  Father,  I  must  say  one  thing.  I  have  been  in  t*. 
dreadful,  dreadful  dream  since  mother  died.  The 
most  dreadful  part  of  my  dream,  the  blackest  part, 
was  about  you." 

"  Yes,  Polly,  yes,  dear." 

"  You  were  there,  father,  and  you  let  her  die." 

Dr.  Maybright  put  his  arm  round  the  trembling 
child,  and  drew  her  and  the  baby  too  close  to 
him. 

"  Not  willingly,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  which  Polly 
had  never  heard  him  use  before.  "  Not  willingly, 
my  child.  Jt  was  with  anguish  I  let  your  mother 


20  POLLY. 

go  away.  But  Polly,  there  was  another  physician 
there  greater  than  I." 

"  Another  ?  "  said  Polly. 

"  Yes,  another — and  he  prescribed  Rest,  for  ever 
more." 

All  her  life  afterwards  Polly  remembered  these 
words  of  her  father's.  They  calmed  her  great  sor 
row,  and  in  many  ways  left  her  a  different  child. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

/ 

QUITE    A    NEW    SORT    OP    SCHEME. 

ON  a  certain  sunny  morning  in  August,  four  or  five 
weeks  after  Mrs.  Maybright's  death,  six  girls  stood 
round  Dr.  Maybright  in  his  study.  They  were  all 
dressed  in  deep  mourning,  but  it  was  badly  made 
and  unbecoming,  and  one  and  all  looked  untidy,  and 
a  little  run  to  seed.  Their  ages  were  as  varied  as 
their  faces.  Helen,  aged  sixteen,  had  a  slightly 
plump  figure,  a  calm,  smooth,  oval  face,  and  pretty 
gentle  blue  eyes.  Her  hair  was  fair  and  wavy  ;  she 
was  the  tidiest  of  the  group,  and  notwithstanding 
the  heavy  make  of  her  ugly  frock,  had  a  very  sweet 
and  womanly  expression.  Polly,  all  angles  and 
awkwardness,  came  next  in  years ;  she  was  tall  and 
very  slim.  Her  face  was  small,  her  hair  nearly 
black  and  very  untidy,  and  her  big,  dark,  restless 
eyes  reflected  each  emotion  of  her  mind. 

Polly  was  lolling  against  the  mantelpiece,  and 
restlessly  changing  her  position  from  one  leg  to 
another;  Katie,  aged  eleven,  was  something  in 
Helen's  style;  then  came  the  twins,  Dolly  and 
Mabel,  and  then  a  rather  pale  child,  with  a  some- 


QUITE  A  NEW  SORT  OF  SCHEME.  21 

what  queer  expression,  commonly  known  in  the 
family  as  "  Firefly."  Her  real  name  was  Lucy,  but 
no  one  ever  dreamt  of  calling  her  by  this  gentle 
title.  "  Firefly  "  was  almost  always  in  some  sort  of 
disgrace,  and  scarcely  knew  what  it  was  not  to  live 
in  a  state  of  perpetual  mental  hot  water.  It  was 
privately  whispered  in  the  family  circle  that  Polly 
encouraged  her  in  her  naughtiness.  Whether  that 
was  the  case  or  not,  these  two  had  a  kind  of  quaint, 
elfish  friendship  between  them,  Firefly  in  her  heart 
of  hearts  worshipping  Polly,  and  obeying  her 
slightest  nod  or  wish. 

"  I  have  sent  for  you,  girls,"  said  the  Doctor, 
looking  round  tenderly  at  his  six  motherless  daugh 
ters,  "  to  say  that  I  have  talked  over  matters  with 
Helen,  and  for  the  present  at  least,  I  am  willing  to 
give  her  plan  a  trial.  I  think  she  is  right  when  she 
tells  me  that  if  it  turns  out  successful  nothing  would 
please  your  mother  more.  It  entirely  depends  on 
yourselves  whether  it  succeeds  or  fails.  If  you  are 
agreeable  to  try  it,  you  can  come  to  me  to-morrow 
at  this  hour  and  tell  me  so.  Now  good-by,  my 
dears.  Helen  will  explain  everything  to  you. 
Helen,  I  shall  not  be  in  for  early  dinner.  Good- 
by,  good-by  to  you  all." 

The  Doctor  nodded,  looked  half -abstractedly  at 
the  upturned  young  faces,  pushed  his  way  through 
the  little  group,  and  taking  up  a  parcel  of  papers 
and  a  surgical  case  which  lay  near,  went  straight  to 
his  carriage,  which  was  heard  immediately  after 
wards  to  bowl  quickly  down  the  avenue. 

The  moment  he  was  gone  Helen  was  surrounded 
by  a  clamorous  group. 

"  What  is  it,  Nell  ?  oh,  do  tell  us— tell  us  quickly," 
said  they,  one  and  all. 

"  I  thought  Helen  looked  very  important  these 


22  POLLY. 

last  few  days,"  said  Dolly.  "  Do  tell  us  what  it  is, 
Nell,  and  what  the  plan  is  we  are  all  to  agree 
to." 

"  It  sounds  rather  nice  to  be  asked  to  agree  to 
things,"  said  Firefly.  "  What's  the  matter,  Poll  ? 
You  look  grumpy." 

"  I  think  Helen  may  be  allowed  to  speak,"  said 
Polly.  "  Go  on,  Nell,  out  with  the  budget  of  news. 
And  you,  young  ones,  you  had  better  not  interrupt 
her,  for  if  you  do,  I'll  pay  you  out  by-and-by. 
Now,  Nell.  Speak,  Nell." 

«  It's  this,"  said  Helen. 

She  seated  herself  on  the  window-ledge,  and  Polly 
stood,  tall  and  defiant,  at  her  back.  Firefly  dropped 
on  h£r  knees  in  front,  and  the  others  lolled  about 
anyhow. 

"It's  this,"  she  said.  "Father  would  like  to 
carry  on  our  education  as  much  in  mother's  way  as 
possible.  And  he  says  that  he  is  willing,  for  a  time 
at  least,  to  do  without  having  a  resident  elderly 
governess  to  live  with  us." 

"  Oh,  good  gracious ! "  exclaimed  Polly, "  was  there 
ever  such  an  idea  thought  of  ?  " 

"  She'd  have  spectacles,"  said  Dolly. 

"And  a  hooked  nose,"  remarked  Katie. 

f'An:l  she'd  be  sure  to  squint,  and  have  false 
teeth,  and  I'd  hate  her,"  snapped  Firefly,  putting  on 
her  most  vindictive  face. 

"  Well,  it's  what's  generally  done,"  said  Helen,  in 
her  grave,  sad,  steady,  young  voice.  "  You  remember 
the  Brewsters  when  they — they  had  their  great 
sorrow — how  an  elderly  governess  came,  and  Aunt 
Maria  Cameron  has  written  to  father  about  two 
already.  She  speaks  of  them  as  treasures ;  father 
showed  me  the  letters.  He  says  he  supposes  it  is 
quite  the  usual  thing,  and  he  asked  me  what  I'd 


QUITE  A  NEW  SORT  OF  SCHEME.  23 

like.  Poor  father,  you  see  he  must  be  out  all  day 
with  the  sick  folks." 

"  Of  course,"  murmured  Polly.  "  Well,  what  did 
you  answer  him  about  the  old  horrors,  Nell  ?  " 

"  One  seemed  rather  nice,"  said  Helen.  "  She  was 
about  forty-five,  and  had  thin  grayish  hair.  Aunt 
Maria  sent  her  photograph,  and  said  that  she  was  a 
treasure,  and  that  father  ought  not  to  lose  an  hour 
in  securing  her.  Her  name  was  Miss  Jenkins." 

"  Jenkins  or  Jones,  I'd  have  given  her  sore  bones," 
spitefully  improvised  Firefly. 

"  Well,  she's  not  to  come,"  continued  Helen,  "  at 
least,  not  at  present.  For  I  have  persuaded  father 
to  let  us  try  the  other  plan.  He  says  all  our  relations 
will  be  angry  with  him ;  of  course,  he  is  not  likely 
to  care  for  that.  This  is  what  we  are  to  try,  girls, 
if  you  are  agreeable.  Father  is  going  to  get  the 
very  best  daily  governess  from  Nettleship  to  come 
here  every  morning.  She  will  stay  until  after  early 
dinner,  and  then  George  will  drive  her  back  to  town 
in  the  pony  trap.  And  then  Mr.  Masters  is  to  come 
twice  a  week,  as  usual,  about  our  music,  and  Mr. 
Danvers  for  drawing.  And  Miss  Wilson  is  to  stay 
here  most  of  the  day  to  look  after  Bunny  and  Bob. 
That  is  a  much  better  arrangement  than  having  a 
resident  governess,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  three  or  four  voices,  but  Polly  was 
silent,  and  Firefly,  eagerly  watching  her  face,  closed 
her  own  resolute  little  lips. 

"  That  is  part  of  father's  plan,"  continued  Helen. 
"  But  the  other,  and  more  important  part  is  this.  I 
am  to  undertake  the  housekeeping.  Father  says  he 
would  like  Polly  to  help  me  a  little,  but  the  burden 
and  responsibility  of  the  whole  thing  rests  on  me. 
And  also,  girls,  father  says  that  there  must  be  some 
one  in  absolute  authority.  There  must  be  some  one 


24  POLLY. 

who  can  settle  disputes,  and  keep  things  in  order,  and 
so  he  says  that  unless  you  are  all  willing  to  do  what 
I  ask  you  to  do,  the  scheme  must  s.till  fall  through, 
and  we  must  be  like  the  Brewsters  or  any  other 
unhappy  girls  whose  mothers  are  no  longer  with 
them,  and  have  a  resident  governess. 

"  I  know  you  won't  like  to  obey  me,"  continued 
Helen,  looking  anxiously  round,  "  but  I  don't  think 
I'll  be  hard  on  you.  No,  I  am  sure  I  shall  not  be 
hard  on  any  of  you." 

"That  remains  to  be  proved,"  said  Polly.  "I 
don't  think  I  like  that  plan.  I  won't  give  any  answer 
at  present — I'll  think  about  it.  Come  along,  Fly," 
she  nodded  to  her  younger  sister,  and  then,  lifting  the 
heavy  bottom  sash  of  the  window  where  Helen  had 
been  sitting,  stepped  lightly  out,  followed  by  the 
obedient  Firefly. 

"  I  don't  want  to  obey  Nell,"  said  the  little  sister, 
clasping  two  of  Polly's  fingers  with  her  thin,  small 
hand.  "  If  it  was  you,  Poll  Parrot,  it  would  be  a 
different  thing,  but  I  don't  want  to  obey  Nell.  I 
don't  think  it's  fair  ;  she's  only  my  sister,  like  the 
rest  of  them.  There's  nothing  said  in  the  Cate 
chism  about  obeying  sisters.  It's  only  fathers  and 
mothers,  and  spiritual  pastors  and  masters." 

"  And  all  those  put  in  authority  over  you,"  pro 
ceeded  Polly,  shaking  her  fingers  free,  and  facing 
round  on  Firefly,  in  a  way  which  caused  that  young 
person  to  back  several  inches.  "  If  Helen  once  gets 
the  authority  the  Catechism  is  on  her  side,  not  on 
yours." 

"  But  I  needn't  promise,  need  I  ?  "  pouted  Firefly. 
"  If  it  was  you,  it  would  be  different.  I  always  did 
what  you  wanted  me  to  do,  Polly  Perkins." 

"  Of  course  you  did,"  responded  Polly,  in  a  most 
contemptuous  voice.  "  Will  a  duck  swim  ?  I  led 


QUITE  A  NEW  SORT  OF  SCHEME.  25 

you  into  mischief — of  course  you  followed.  Well, 
Fly,  it  rests  with  yourself.  Don't  obey  our  dear, 
good,  gentle  Nelly,  and  you'll  have  Miss  Jenkins 
here.  Won't  it  be  fun  to  see  her  squinting  at  you 
over  her  spectacles  when  she  returns  your  spelling- 
lessons.  Bread  and  water  will  be  your  principal  diet 
most  of  the  week.  Well,  good-by  now  ;  I'm  off  to 
baby." 

Polly  took  to  her  heels,  and  Firefly  stood  for  a 
moment  or  two  looking  utterly  miserable  and  irreso 
lute  on  the  wide  gravel  walk  in  the  centre  of  the 
flower-garden.  She  felt  very  much  inclined  to 
stamp  her  feet  and  to  screw  up  her  thin  little  face 
into  contortions  of  rage.  Even  very  little  girls, 
however,  won't  go  into  paroxysms  of  anger  when 
there  is  no  one  there  to  see.  Firefly's  heart  was 
very  sore,  for  Polly,  her  idol,  had  spoken  to  her 
almost  roughly. 

"  I  wish  mother  wasn't  in  heaven,"  she  murmured 
in  a  grieved  little  voice,  and  then  she  turned  and 
walked  back  to  the  house.  The  nearer  she  ap 
proached  the  study  window  the  faster  grew  her  foot 
steps.  At  last,  like  a  little  torrent,  she  vaulted  back 
into  the  room,  and  flung  her  arms  noisily  round 
Helen's  neck. 

"  I'll  obey  you,  darling  Nell,"  she  said.  "  I'd 
much  rather  have  you  than  Miss  Jenkins." 

And  then  she  sobbed  aloud,  and  really  shook  her 
self,  for  she  felt  still  so  angry  with  Polly. 

"  That's  a  good  little  Fly,"  said  Helen,  kissing  her 
affectionately  in  return,  and  putting  her  arm  round 
her  waist,  so  as  to  establish  her  comfortably  on  her 
knee.  The  other  girls  were  all  lying  about  in  dif 
ferent  easy  attitudes,  and  Firefly  joined  in  the  gen 
eral  talk,  and  found  herself  much  comforted. 


26  POLLY. 


CHAPTER  V. 

A  SAFETY-VALVE. 

"  FLY  caved  in,  didn't  she  ?  "  said  Polly  to  her 
eldest  sister  that  night. 

"  Yes,  poor  little  mite,  she  did,  in  a  touching 
way,"  said  Helen ;  "  but  she  seemed  in  trouble  about 
something.  You  know  how  reserved  she  is  about 
her  feelings,  but  when  she  sat  on  my  knee  she  quite 
sobbed." 

"  I  was  rather  brutal  to  her,"  said  Polly,  in  a  non 
chalant  tone,  flinging  up  the  sash  of  the  bedroom 
window  as  she  spoke,  and  indulging  in  a  careless 
whistle. 

It  was  bed-time,  but  the  girls  were  tempted  by 
the  moonlight  night  to  sit  up  and  look  out  at  the 
still,  sweet  beauty,  and  chatter  together. 

"  How  could  you  be  unkind  to  her  ?  "  said  Helen, 
in  a  voice  of  dismay.  "  Polly,  dear,  do  shut  that 
window  again,  or  you  will  have  a  sore  throat. 
How  could  you  be  unkind  to  poor  little  Fly,  Poll, 
when  she  is  so  devoted  to  you  ?J> 

"  The  very  reason,"  said  Polly.  "  She'd  never 
have  gone  over  to  you  if  I  hadn't.  I  saw  rebellion 
in  that  young  'un's  eye — that  was  why  I  caLba  her 
out.  I  was  determined  to  nip  it  in  the  bud 

"But  you  rebelled  yourself?" 

"  Yes,  and  I  mean  to  go  on  rebelling.  I  am  not 
Fly." 

"  Well,  Polly,"  said  Helen,  suppressing  a  heavy 
sigh  on  her  own  account.  "  You  know  I  don't  want 


A  SAFETY-VALVE.  2? 

you  a  bit  to  obey  me.  I  am  not  a  mistressing  sort  of 
girl,  and  I  like  to  consult  you  about  things,  and  I 
want  us  both  to  feel  more  or  less  as  equals.  Still 
father  says  there  are  quite  two  years  between  us, 
and  that  the  scheme  cannot  be  worked  at  all  unless 
some  one  is  distinctly  at  the  head.  He  particularly 
spoke  of  you,  Polly,  and  said  that  if  you  would  not 
agree  we  must  go  back  to  the  idea  of  Miss  Jenkins, 
or  that  he  will  let  this  house  for  a  time,  and  send 
us  all  to  school." 

"  A  worse  horror  than  the  other,"  said  Polly.  "  I 
wouldn't  be  a  school-girl  for  all  you  could  give  me  ! 
Why,  the  robin's  nest  might  be  discovered  by  some 
one  else,  and  my  grubs  and  chrysalides  would  come 
to  perfection  without  me.  No,  no  ;  rather  than 
that — can't  we  effect  a  compromise,  Nell  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Helen.  "  You  know  I  am 
willing  to  agree  to  anything.  It  is  father." 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  poor  Nell,  you're  the  meekest  and 
mildest  of  mortals.  Now,  look  here,  wouldn't  this 
be  fun?" 

Polly's  black  eyes  began  to  dance. 

"  You  know  how  fond  I  always  was  of  housekeep 
ing.  Let  me  housekeep  every  second  week.  Give 
me  the  money  and  let  me  buy  every  single  thing  and 
pay  for  it,  and  don't  interfere  with  me  whatever  I  do. 
I'll  promise  to  be  as  good  as  gold  always,  and  obey 
you  in  every  single  thing,  if  only  I  have  this  safety- 
valve.  Let  me  expend  myself  upon  the  housekeep 
ing,  and  I'll  be  as  good,  better  than  gold.  I'll  help 
you,  and  be  your  right  hand,  Nell  ;  and  I'll  obey 
you  in  the  most  public  way  before  all  the  other  girls, 
and  as  to  Fly,  see  if  I  don't  keep  her  in  hand.  What 
do  you  think  of  this  plan,  Nell  ?  I,  with  my  safety- 
valve,  the  comfort  of  your  life,  a  sort  of  general  to 
keep  your  forces  in  order." 


28  POLLY. 

"  But  you  really  can't  housekeep,  Polly.  Of  course 
I'd  like  to  please  you,  and  father  said  himself  you 
were  to  help  me  in  the  house.  But  to  manage  every 
thing — why,  it  frightens  me,  and  I  am  two  years 
older." 

"  But  you  have  so  very  little  spirit,  darling.  Now 
it  doesn't  frighten  me  a  bit,  and  that's  why  I'm  so 
certain  I  shall  succeed  splendidly.  Look  here,  Nell, 
let  me  speak  to  father,  myself ;  if  he  says  '  yes,'  you 
won't  object,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Helen. 

"  You  are  a  darling — I'll  soon  bring  father  round. 
Now,  shall  we  go  bed  ? — I  am  so  sleepy." 

The  next  morning  at  breakfast  Polly  electrified 
her  brothers  and  sisters  by  the  very  meek  way  in 
which  she  appealed  to  Helen  on  all  occasions. 

"  Do  you  think,  Nell,  that  I  ought  to  have  any 
more  of  this  marmalade  on  fresh  bread  ?  I  ate  half 
a  pot  yesterday  on  three  or  four  slices  of  hot  bread 
from  the  oven,  and  felt  quite  a  dizzy  stupid  feeling 
in  my  head  afterwards." 

"  Of  course,  how  could  you  expect  it  to  agree  with 
you,  Polly  ?  "  said  Helen,  looking  up  innocently  from 
her  place  at  the  tea-tray. 

"  Had  I  better  have  a  little  of  this  stale  bread-and- 
butter  then,  dear  ?  "  proceeded  Polly  in  a  would-be 
anxious  tone. 

"  Yes,  if  you  will,  dear.  But  you  never  like  stale 
bread-and  -butter. ' ' 

"  I'll  eat  it  if  you  wish  me  to,  Helen,"  answered 
Polly,  in  a  very  meek,  good  little  voice. 

The  two  boys  began  to  chuckle,  and  even  Dr. 
Maybright  looked  at  his  second  daughter  in  a  puz 
zled,  abstracted  way.  Helen,  too,  colored  slightly, 
and  wondered  what  Polly  meant.  But  the  young 
lady  herself  munched  her  stale  bread  with  the  most 


A  SAFETY-VALVE.  29 

immovable  of  faces,  and  even  held  up  the  slice  for 
Helen  to  scrutinize,  with  the  gentle,  good  little  re 
mark — "  Have  I  put  too  much  butter  on  it,  Nell  ? 
It  isn't  right  to  waste  nice  good  butter,  is  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Polly,  how  dreadful  you  are  !  "  said  Fly. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Polly,  fiercely. 

She  dropped  her  meek  manners,  gave  one  quick 
glare  at  the  small  speaker,  and  then  half  turning  her 
back  on  her,  said  in  the  gentlest  of  voices,  "  What 
would  you  like  me  to  do  this  morning,  Helen  ?  Shall 
I  look  over  my  history  lesson  for  an  hour,  and  then 
practise  scales  on  the  piano  ?  " 

"  You  may  do  just  as  you  please,  as  far  as  I  am 
concerned,"  replied  Helen,  who  felt  that  this  sort  of 
obedience  was  far  worse  for  the  others  than  open 
rebellion.  "  I  thought  you  wanted  to  see  father, 
Polly.  He  has  just  gone  into  his  study,  and  perhaps 
he  will  give  you  ten  minutes,  if  you  go  to  him  at 
once." 

This  speech  of  Helen's  caused  Polly  to  forget  her 
role  of  the  meek,  obedient  martyr.  Her  brow 
cleared. 

"  Thank  you  for  reminding  me,  Nell,"  she  said,  in 
her  natural  voice,  and  a  moment  later  she  was 
knocking  at  the  Doctor's  study  door. 

"  Come  in,"  he  said.  And  when  the  untidy  head 
and  somewhat  neglected  person  of  his  second 
daughter  appeared,  Dr.  Maybright  walked  towards 
her. 

"  I  am  going  out,  Polly,  do  you  want  me  ?  "  he 
said. 

"  Yes,  it  won't  take  a  minute,"  said  Polly,  eagerly. 
"  May  I  housekeep  every  second  week  instead  of  Nell  ? 
Will  you  give  me  the  money  instead  of  her,  and  let 
me  pay  for  everything,  and  buy  the  food?  I  am  aw 
fully  interested  in  eggs  and  butter,  and  I'll  give  you 


30  POLLY. 

splendid  puddings  and  cakes.  Please  say  yes,  father 
— Nell  is  quite  willing,  if  you  are." 

"  How  old  are  you,  Polly  ?  "  said  Dr.  Maybright. 

He  put  his  hand  under  Polly's  chin  and  raised  her 
childish  face  to  scrutinize  it  closely. 

"  What  matter  about  my  age,"  she  replied ;  "  I'm 
fourteen  in  body — I'm  twenty  in  mind — and  as  to 
housekeeping,  I'm  thirty,  if  not  forty." 

"  That  head  looks  very  like  thirty,  if  not  forty," 
responded  the  Doctor,  significantly.  "And  that 
dress,"  glancing  at  where  the  hem  was  torn,  and 
where  the  body  gaped  open  for  want  of  sufficient 
hooks,  "  looks  just  the  costume  I  should  recommend 
for  the  matron  of  a  large  establishment.  Do  you 
know  what  it  means  to  housekeep  for  this  family, 
Polly  ?  " 

"Buy  the  bread  and  butter, and  the  meat,  and 
the  poultry,  and  the  tea,  and  the  sugar,  and  the 
citron,  and  raisins,  and  allspice,  and  nutmegs,  and 
currants,  and  flour,  and  brick-bat,  and  hearthstone, 
and — and " 

Dr.  Maybright  put  his  fingers  to  his  ears.  "  Spare 
me  any  more,"  said  he,  "  I  never  ask  for  items.  There 
are  in  this  house,  Polly,  nine  children,  myself,  and 
four  servants.  That  makes  in  all  fourteen  people. 
These  people  have  to  be  fed  and  clothed,  and  some  of 
them  have  to  be  paid  wages  too ;  they  have  to  be 
warmed,  they  have  to  be  kept  clean,  in  short,  all  their 
comforts  of  body  have  to  be  attended  to ;  one  of  them 
requires  one  thing,  one  quite  another.  For  instance, 
the  dinner  which  would  be  admirably  suited  to  you 
would  kill  baby,  and  might  not  be  best  for  Firefly, 
who  is  not  strong,  and  has  to  be  dieted  in  a  particular 
way.  I  make  it  a  rule  that  servants'  wages  and  all 
articles  consumed  in  the  house  are  paid  for  weekly. 
Whoever  housekeeps  for  me  has  to  undertake  all  this, 


POLLY'S  RAID.  31 

and  has  to  make  a  certain  sum  of  money  cover  a  cer 
tain  expenditure.  Now  do  you  think,  Polly — do  you 
honestly  think — that  you,  an  ignorant  little  girl  of 
fourteen,  a  very  untidy  and  childish  little  girl,  can 
undertake  this  onerous  post  ?  I  ask  you  to  answer 
me  quite  honestly — if  you  undertake  it,  are  you  in 
the  least  likely  to  succeed  ?  " 

"  Oh,  father,  I  know  you  mean  to  crush  me  when 
you  speak  like  that ;  but  you  know  you  told  Helen 
that  you  would  like  her  to  try  to  manage  the  house 
keeping." 

« I  did — and,  as  I  know  you  are  fond  of  domestic 
things,  I  meant  you  to  help  her  a  little.  Helen  is 
two  years  older  than  you,  and — not  the  least  like 
you,  Polly." 

Polly  tossed  her  head. 

"  I  know  that,"  she  said.  "  Helen  takes  twice  as 
long  learning  her  lessons.  Try  my  French  beside 
hers,  father ;  or  my  German,  or  my  music." 

"  Or  your  forbearance — or  your  neatness,"  added 
the  Doctor. 

Here  he  sighed  deeply. 

"  I  miss  your  mother,  Polly,"  he  said.  "  And  poor, 
poor  child  !  so  do  you.  There,  I  can't  waste  another 
minute  of  my  time  with  you  now.  Come  to  my  study 
this  evening  at  nine,  and  we  will  discuss  the  matter 
further." 

CHAPTER  VI. 

POLLY'S  BAID. 

POLLY  spent  some  hours  of  that  day  in  a  some 
what  mysterious  occupation.  Instead  of  helping,  as 
she  had  done  lately,  in  quite  an  efficient  way,  with 
the  baby,  for  she  was  a  very  bright  child,  and  could 


32  POLLY. 

be  most  charming  and  attractive  to  the  smallest 
living  creature  when  she  chose,  she  left  nurse  and 
the  little  brown-eyed  baby  to  their  own  devices,  and 
took  up  a  foraging  expedition  through  the  house. 
She  called  it  her  raid,  and  Polly's  raid  proved  ex 
tremely  disturbing  to  the  domestic  economy  of  the 
household.  For  instance,  when  Susan,  the  very 
neat  housemaid,  had  put  all  the  bedrooms  in  per 
fect  order,  and  was  going  to  her  own  room  to  change 
her  dress  and  make  herself  tidy,  it  was  very  annoying 
to  hear  Polly,  in  a  peremptory  tone,  desiring  her  to 
give  her  the  keys  of  the  linen-press. 

"  For,"  said  that  young  lady,  "  I'm  going  to  look 
through  the  towels  this  morning,  Susan,  to  see  which 
of  them  want  darning,  and  you  had  better  stay  with 
me,  to  take  away  those  that  have  thin  places  hi 
them." 

"Oh  dear  me,  Miss  Polly,"  said  Susan,  rather 
pertly,  "  the  towels  is  seen  to  in  the  proper  rotation. 
You  needn't  be  a  fretting  your  head  about  'em,  miss. 
This  ain't  the  morning  for  the  linen-press,  miss. 
It's  done  at  its  proper  time  and  hour." 

"  Give  me  the  key  at  once,  Susan,  and  don't  an 
swer,"  said  Polly.  "  There,  hold  your  apron — I'll 
throw  the  towels  in.  What  a  lot — I  don't  believe 
we  want  half  as  many.  When  I  take  the  reins  of 
office  next  week,  I'll  put  away  quite  half  of  these 
towels.  There  can't  be  waste  going  on  in  the  house 
—I  won't  have  it,  not  when  I  housekeep,  at  any  rate. 
Susan,  wasn't  that  a  little  round  speck  of  a  hole  in 
that  towel  ?  Ah,  I  thought  so.  You  put  it  aside, 
Susan,  you'll  have  to  darn  it  this  afternoon.  Now 
then,  let  me  see,  let  me  see." 

Polly  worked  vigorously  through  the  towels, 
holding  them  up  to  the  light  to  discover  their  thin 
places,  pinching  them  in  parts,  and  feeling  their 


POLLY'S  RAID.  S3 

texture  between  her  finger  and  thumb.  In  the  end 
she  pronounced  about  a  dozen  unworthy  of  domestic 
service,  and  Susan  was  desired  to  spend  her  after 
noon  in  repairing  them. 

"  I  can't,  then,  Miss  Polly,"  said  the  much  injured 
housemaid.  It  ain't  neither  the  day  nor  the  hour, 
and  I  haven't  got  one  scrap  of  proper  darning 
thread  left." 

"  I'll  go  to  the  village,  then,  and  get  some,"  said 
Polly.  "  It's  only  a  mile  away.  Things  can't  be 
neglected — it  isn't  right.  Take  the  towels,  Susan, 
and  let  me  find  them  mended  to-morrow  morning  ;  " 
and  the  young  lady  tripped  off  with  a  very  bright 
color  in  her  cheeks,  and  the  key  of  the  linen-press 
In  her  pocket. 

Her  next  visit  was  to  the  kitchen  regions. 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Power,"  she  said  to  the  ^cook,  "  I've 
come  to  see  the  stores.  It  isn't  right  that  they 
shouldn't  be  looked  into,  is  it,  in  case  of  anything 
falling  short.  Fancy  if  you  were  run  out  of  pearl 
barley,  Mrs.  Power,  or  allspice,  or  nutmegs,  or  mace. 
Oh,  dear,  it  makes  me  quite  shiver  to  tnink  of  it ! 
What  a  mess  you  would  be  in,  if  you  hadn't  all  your 
ingredients  handy,  in  case  you  were  making  a  plum- 
cake,  or  some  of  those  dear  little  tea-cakes,  or  a 
custard,  or  something  of  that  sort.  Now,  if  yoit'll 
just  give  me  the  keys,  we'll  pay  a  visit  to  the  store 
room,  and  see  what  is  likely  to  be  required.  I  have 
my  tablet  here,  and  I  can  write  the  order  as  I  look 
through." 

Mrs.  Power  was  a  red-faced  and  not  a  very  good- 
humored  woman.  She  was,  however,  an  excellent 
cook  and  a  careful,  prudent  servant.  Mrs.  May- 
bright  had  found  her,  notwithstanding  her  very 
irascible  temper,  a  great  comfort,  for  she  was 
thoroughly  honest  and  conscientious,  but  even  from 


34  POLLY. 

her  late  mistress  Mrs.  Power  would  never  brook 
much  interference ;  it  is  therefore  little  to  be  won 
dered  at  that  Polly's  voluminous  speech  was  not  very 
well  received. 

Mrs.  Power's  broad  back  was  to  the  young  lad}, 
as  she  danced  gleefully  into  the  kitchen,  and  it  re 
mained  towards  her,  with  one  ear  just  slightly 
turned  in  her  direction,  all  the  time  she  was  speak 
ing. 

Mrs.  Power  was  busy  at  the  moment  removing 
the  fat  from  a  large  vessel  full  of  cold  soup.  She 
had  some  pepper  and  salt,  and  nutmegs  and  other 
flavoring  ingredients  on  the  table  beside  her,  and 
when  Polly's  speech  came  to  a  conclusion  she  took 
up  the  pepper  canister  and  certainly  flavored  the 
soup  with  a  very  severe  dose. 

"  If  I  was  you,  I'd  get  out  of  the  hot  kitchen, 
child — I'm  busy,  and  not  attending  to  a  word  you're 
talking  about." 

No  answer  could  have  been  more  exasperating  to 
Polly.  She  too  had  her  temper,  and  had  no  idea  of 
being  put  down  by  twenty  Mrs.  Powers. 

"  Take  care,  you're  spoiling  the  soup,"  she  said. 
"  That's  twice  too  much  pepper — and  oh,  what  a  lot 
of  salt !  Don't  you  know,  Mrs.  Power,  that  it's  very 
wicked  to  waste  good  food  in  that  way — it  is,  really, 
perhaps  you  did  not  think  of  it  in  that  light,  but  it 
is,  I'm  afraid  you  can't  ever  have  attended  any 
cookery  classes,  Mrs.  Power,  or  you'd  know  better 
than  to  put  all  that  pepper  into  that  much  soup. 
Why  it  ought  to  be — it  ought  to  be — let  me  see,  I 
think  it's  the  tenth  of  an  ounce  to  half  a  gallon  of 
soup.  I'm  not  quite  sure,  but  I'll  look  up  the  cook 
ery  lectures  and  let  you  know.  Now,  where's  the 
key  of  the  store-room — we'd  better  set  to  work,  for 
the  morning  is  going  on,  and  I  have  a  great  deal  on 


POLLY'S  RAID.  35 

my  hands.  Where's  the  key  of  the  store-room, 
Mrs.  Power?" 

"  There's  only  one  key  that  I  know  much  about 
dt  the  present  moment,"  replied  the  exasperated 
cook,  "  and  that's  the  key  of  the  kitchen-door ;  come, 
child — I'm  going  to  put  you  on  the  other  side  of 
it ; "  and  so  saying,  before  Polly  was  in  the  least 
aware  of  her  intention,  she  was  caught  up  in  Mrs. 
Power's  stalwart  arms  and  placed  on  the  flags  outside 
the  kitchen,  while  the  door  was  boldly  locked  in 
her  face. 

This  was  really  a  check,  almost  a  checkmate,  and 
for  a  time  Polly  quite  shook  with  fury,  but  after  a 
little  she  sufficiently  recovered  herself  to  reflect  that 
the  reins  of  authority  had  not  yet  been  absolutely 
placed  in  her  hands,  and  it  might  be  wisest  for  her 
to  keep  this  defeat  to  herself. 

"  Poor  old  Power  !  you  won't  be  here  long  when 
I'm  housekeeper,"  reflected  Polly.  "  It  would  not 
be  right — you're  not  at  all  a  good  servant.  Why,  I 
know  twice  as  much  already  as  you  do." 

She  went  slowly  up-stairs,  and  going  to  the 
schoolroom,  where  the  girls  were  all  busying  them 
selves  in  different  fashions,  sat  down  by  her  own 
special  desk,  and  made  herself  very  busy  dividing  a 
long  old-fashioned  rosewood  box  into  several  com 
partments  by  means  of  stout  cardboard  divisions. 
She  was  really  a  clever  little  maid  in  her  own  way, 
and  the  box  when  finished  looked  quite  neat.  Each 
division  was  labelled,  and  Polly's  cheeks  glowed  as 
she  surveyed  her  handiwork. 

"  What  a  very  queer  box,"  said  Dolly,  coming  for 
ward.  "  What  are  you  so  long  about,  Poll  Parrot  ? 
And  oh,  what  red  cheeks  !  " 

"  Never  you  mind,"  said  Polly,  shutting  up  her 
box.  "  It's  finished  now,  and  quite  ready  for  father 


36  POLLY. 

to  see  to-night.  I'm  going  to  become  a  very  import 
ant  personage,  Miss  Doll — so  you'd  better  begin  to 
treat  me  with  respect.  Oh  dear,  where's  the  cookery 
book  ?  Helen,  do  you  know  where  the  '  Lectures  on 
Elementary  Cookery '  is  ?  Just  fancy,  Nell,  cook 
doesn't  know  how  much  pepper  should  go  to  a  gallon 
of  soup!  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  shameful 
ignorance  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  surely  have  not  been  speaking  to  her 
on  the  subject  ?  "  said  Helen,  who  was  busily  engaged 
darning  Bunny's  socks;  she  raised  her  head  and 
looked  at  Polly  in  some  surprise  as  she  spoke. 

"  Oh,  have  I  not,  though  ? "  Polly's  charming, 
merry  face  twinkled  all  over. 

"I  saw  Susan  crying  just  now,"  interposed  Mabel. 
"  She  said  Polly  had  been — why,  what  is  the  matter, 
Poll?" 

"  Nothing,"  said  Poll,  "  only  if  I  were  you,  Mabel, 
I  wouldn't  tell  tales  out  of  school.  I'm  going  to  be 
a  person  of  importance,  so  if  you're  wise,  all  of  you, 
you'll  keep  at  my  blind  side.  Oh  dear !  where  is  that 
cookery  book  ?  Girls,  you  may  each  tell  me  what 
puddings  you  like  best,  and  what  cake,  and  what 
dish  for  breakfast,  and " 

But  here  the  dinner  gong  put  an  end  to  a  subject 
of  much  interest. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  GROWN-UPS. 


IN  the  evening  Polly  had  her  interview  with  her 
father.  Dr.  May  bright  had  gone  through  a  long  and 
fatiguing  day ;  some  anxious  cases  caused  him  dis 
quiet,  and  his  recent  sorrow  lay  heavily  against  his 


THE  GROWN-UPS.  37 

heart.  How  was  the  father  of  seven  daughters,  and 
two  very  scampish  little  sons,  to  bring  them  up  alone 
and  unaided  ?  How  was  a  man's  own  heart  to  do 
without  the  sympathy  to  which  it  had  turned,  the 
love  Avhich  had  strengthened,  warmed,  and  sustained 
it  ?  Dr.  May  bright  was  standing  by  the  window, 
looking  out  at  the  familiar  garden,  which  showed 
shadowy  and  indistinct  in  the  growing  dusk,  when 
Polly  crept  softly  into  the  room,  and,  going  up  to 
his  side,  laid  her  pretty  dimpled  hand  on  his  arm. 

"Now,  father,"  she  said,  eagerly,  "about  the 
housekeeping?  I'm  all  prepared — shall  we  go  into 
the  subject  now  ?  " 

Dr.  Maybright  sighed,  and  with  an  effort  roused 
himself  out  of  a  reverie  which  was  becoming  very 
painful. 

"  My  little  girl,"  he  said,  pushing  back  the  tumbled 
hair  from  Polly's  sunshiny  face.  Then  he  added, 
with  a  sudden  change  of  manner.  "  Oh,  what  a  goose 
you  are,  Polly — you  know  as  much  about  housekeep 
ing  as  I  do,  and  that  is  nothing  at  all." 

"  I  wouldn't  make  bold  assertions,"  replied  Polly, 
saucily — "  I  wouldn't  really,  father  dear ;  I  couldn't 
cure  a  sick  person,  of  course  not,  but  I  could  make 
a  very  nice  cake  for  one." 

"  Well,  let's  go  into  the  matter,"  said  the  Doctor, 
moving  to  his  study  table.  "  I  have  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  to  give  you,  my  dear,  then  I  want  to  go  into 
the  village  to  see  Mrs.  Judson  before  she  settles  for 
the  night ;  she  has  a  nasty  kind  of  low  fever  about 
her,  and  her  husband  is  anxious,  so  I  promised  to 
look  in.  By  the  way,  Polly,  don't  any  of  you  go 
nearer  the  Judsons'  house  until  I  give  you  leave ; 
walk  at  the  other  side  of  the  village,  if  you  must  go 
there  at  all.  Now,  my  dear,  about  this  housekeeping. 
Are  you  seriously  resolved  to  force  your  attentions 


38  fOLLV, 

upon  us  for  a  week  ?  We  shall  certainly  all  be  most 
uncomfortable,  and  severe  attacks  of  indigestion  will 
probably  be  the  result.  Is  your  heart  set  on  this, 
Polly,  child  ?  For,  if  so — well,  your  mother  never 
thwarted  you,  did  she  ?  " 

"  No,  father,  never — but  don't  talk  of  mother,  for 
I  don't  think  I  can  bear  it.  When  I  was  with  mother 
somehow  or  other,  I  don't  know  why,  I  never  wished 
for  anything  she  did  not  like." 

"  Just  so,  my  dear  child.  Turn  up  the  lamp,  if 
you  please,  Polly — sit  there,  will  you — I  want  to  see 
your  face.  Now  I  will  reply  to  the  first  part  of  your 
last  remark.  You  asked  me  not  to  speak  of  your 
mother,  my  dear ;  I  certainly  will  mention  her  name 
to  her  children.  She  has  gone  away,  but  she  is  still 
one  with  us.  Why  should  our  dearest  household  word 
be  buried.  Why  should  not  her  influence  reach 
you  and  Helen  and  Dolly  from  where  she  now  is? 
She  is  above — she  has  gone  into  the  higher  life,  but 
she  can  lead  you  up.  You  understand  me,  Polly. 
Thoughts  of  your  mother  must  be  your  best,  your 
noblest  thoughts  from  this  out." 

"  Yes,  father,  yes,"  said  Polly.  Her  lips  were 
trembling,  her  eyes  were  brimful,  she  clasped  and  un 
clasped  her  hands  with  painful  tension. 

Dr.  Maybright  bent  forward  and  kissed  her  on 
her  forehead. 

"  Your  mother  once  said  to  me,"  he  continued,  in  a 
lighter  tone,  "  Polly  is  the  most  peculiar  and  difficult 
to  manage  of  all  my  children.  She  has  a  vein  of  ob 
stinacy  in  her  which  no  persuasion  will  overcome.  It 
can  only  be  reached  by  the  lessons  which  experience 
teaches.  If  possible,  and  where  it  is  not  absolutely 
wrong,  I  always  give  Polly  her  own  way.  She  is  a 
truthful  child,  and  when  her  eyes  are  opened  she 
seldom  asks  to  repeat  the  experiment." 


THE  GROWN-UPS.  39 

«  Mother  was  thinking  of  the  hive  of  honey,"  said 
Polly,  gravely.  "  When  I  worried  her  dreadfully  she 
let  me  go  and  take  some  honey  away.  I  thought  I 
could  manage  the  bees  just  as  cleverly  as  Hungerford 
does,  but  I  got  nervous  just  at  the  end,  and  I  was 
stung  in  four  places.  I  never  told  any  one  about 
the  stings,  only  mother  found  out." 

"  You  did  not  fetch  any  more  honey  from  that 
hive,  eh,  Polly  ?  "  asked  the  Doctor. 

"  No,  father.  And  then  there  was  another  time — • 
and  oh,  yes,  many  other  times.  But  I  did  not  know 
mother  was  just  trying  to  teach  me,  when  she 
seemed  so  kind  and  sympathizing,  and  used  to  say 
in  that  voice  of  hers — you  remember  mother's 
cheerful  voice,  father  ? — '  Well,  Polly,  it  is  a  diffi 
cult  thing,  but  do  your  best.'  " 

"  All  right,  child,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  I  perceive 
that  your  mother's  plan  was  a  wise  one.  Tell  me 
quickly  what  ideas  you  have  with  regard  to  keeping 
this  establishment  together,  for  it  is  almost  time  for 
me  to  run  away  to  Mrs.  Judson.  I  allow  eight 
pounds  a  week  for  all  household  expenses,  servants' 
wages,  coal,  light,  food,  medicine.  I  shall  not  allow 
you  to  begin  with  so  much  responsibility,  but  for  a 
week  you  may  provide  our  table." 

"  And  see  after  the  servants,  please,  father?  "  in 
terrupted  Polly,  in  an  eager  voice. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  so,  just  for  one  week,  that  is, 
after  Helen  has  had  her  turn.  Your  mother  always 
managed,  with  the  help  of  the  vegetables  and  fruit 
from  the  garden,  to  bring  the  mere  table  expenses 
into  four  pounds  a  week ;  but  she  was  a  most  ex 
cellent  manager." 

"  Oh,  father,  I  can  easily  do  it  too.  Why  it's  a 
lot  of  money !  four  pounds — eighty  shillings !  I 
shouldn't  be  a  bit  surprised  if  I  did,  it  for  less. 


40  POLLY. 

"  Remember,  Polly,  I  allow  no  stinting ;  we  must 
have  a  plentiful  table.  No  stinting,  and  no  running 
in  debt.  Those  are  the  absolute  conditions,  other 
wise  I  do  not  trust  you  with  a  penny." 

"  I'll  keep  them  father — never  fear  !  Oh,  how 
delighted  I  am !  I  know  you'll  be  pleased  ;  I  know 
what  you'll  say  by-and-by.  I'm  certain  I  won't 
fail,  certain.  I  always  loved  cooking  and  house 
keeping.  Fancy  making  pie- crust  myself,  and 
cakes,  and  custards !  Mrs.  Powers  is  rather  cross, 
but  she'll  have  to  let  me  make  what  things  I  choose 
when  I'm  housekeeper,  won't  she,  father?" 

"  Manage  it  your  own  way,  dear.  I  neither  inter 
fere  nor  wish  to  interfere.  Oh,  what  a  mess  we 
shall  be  in !  But  thank  heaven  it  is  only  for  a  week. 
My  dear  child,  I  allow  you  to  have  your  way,  but  I 
own  it  is  with  trepidation.  Now  I  must  really  go 
to  Mrs.  Judson." 

"But  one  moment,  please,  father.  I  have  not 
shown  you  my  plan.  You  think  badly  of  me  now, 
but  you  won't,  indeed  you  won't  presently.  I  am  all 
system,  I  assure  you.  I  see  my  way  so  clearly.  I'll 
retrench  without  being  mean,  and  I'll  economize 
without  being  stingy.  Don't  I  use  fine  words, 
father?  That's  because  I  understand  the  subject 
so  thoroughly." 

"  Quite  so,  Polly.  Now  I  must  be  going.  Good 
night,  my  dear." 

"  But  my  plan — you  must  stay  to  hear  it.  Do 
you  see  this  box  ?  It  has  little  divisions.  I  popped 
them  all  in  before  dinner  to-day.  There  is  a  lock 
and  key  to  the  box,  and  the  lock  is  a  strong  one." 

"Well,  Polly?" 

The  Doctor  began  to  get  into  his  overcoat. 

"Look,  father,  dear,  please  look.  Each  little 
division  is  marked  with  a  name.  This  one  is  Gro- 


THE  GROWN-UPS.  41 

ceries,  this  one  is  Butcher,  this  is  Milk,  butter,  and 
eggs,  this  is  Baker,  this  is  Cheesemonger,  and  this 
is  Sundries — oh  yes,  and  laundress,  I  must  screw 
in  a  division  for  laundress  somehow.  Now,  father, 
this  is  my  delightful  plan.  When  you  give  me  my 
four  pounds — my  eighty  shillings — I'll  get  it  all 
changed  into  silver,  and  I'll  divide  it  into  equal  por 
tions,  and  drop  so  much  into  the  grocery  depart 
ment,  so  much  into  the  butcher's,  so  much  into  the 
baker's.  Don't  you  see  how  simple  it  will  be  ?  " 

"  Very,  my  dear — the  game  of  chess  is  nothing  to 
it.  Good-night,  Polly.  I  sincerely  hope  no  serious 
results  will  accrue  from  these  efforts  on  my  part  to 
teach  you  experience." 

The  Doctor  walked  quickly  down  the  avenue. 

"  I'm  quite  resolved,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  to  bring 
them  all  up  as  much  as  possible  on  their  mother's 
plan,  but  if  Polly  requires  many  such  lessons  as  I  am 
forced  to  give  her  to-night,  there  is  nothing  for  it 
but  to  send  her  to  school.  For  really  such  an  ex 
perience  as  we  are  about  to  go  through  at  her  hands 
is  enough  to  endanger  health,  to  say  nothing  of 
peace  and  domestic  quiet.  The  fact  is,  I  really  am 
a  much  worried  man.  It  is  no  joke  bringing  up 
seven  motherless  girls,  each  of  them  with  characters ; 
the  boys  are  a  simple  matter — they  have  school 
before  them,  and  a  career  of  some  sort,  but  the  girls 
— it  really  is  an  awful  responsibility.  Even  the 
baby  has  a  strong  individuality  of  her  own — I  see 
it  already  in  her  brown  eyes — bless  her,  she  has  got 
her  mother's  eyes.  But  my  queer,  wild,  clever 
Polly — what  a  week  we  shall  have  with  you  pre 
sently  !  Now,  who  is  that  crying  and  sobbing  in 
the  dark  ?  " 

The  Doctor  swooped  suddenly  down  on  a  shadowy 
object,  which  lay  prone  under  an  arbutus  shrub- 


42  POLLY. 

"  My  dear  little  Firefly,  what  is  the  matter  ?  You 
ought  to  be  in  bed  ages  ago — out  here  in  the  damp 
and  cold,  and  such  deep-drawn  sobs!  What  has 
nurse  been  about  ?  This  is  really  extremely  care 
less." 

"  It  wasn't  nurse's  fault,"  sobbed  Firefly,  nestling 
her  head  into  her  father's  cheek.  "  I  ran  away  from 
her.  I  hided  from  her  on  purpose." 

"  Then  you  were  the  naughty  one.  What  is  the 
matter,  dear  ?  Why  do  you  make  things  worse  for 
me  and  for  us  all  just  now  ?  " 

Firefly's  head  sank  still  lower.  Her  hot  little 
cheek  pressed  her  father's  with  an  acute  longing  for 
sympathy.  Instinct  told  him  of  the  child's  need. 
He  walked  down  the  avenue,  holding  her  closely. 

"  Wasn't  you  going  the  other  way,  father  ?  "  asked 
Firefly,  squeezing  her  arms  tight  around  his  neck. 

"  No  matter,  I  must  see  you  home  first.  Now 
what  were  those  sobs  about?  And  why  did  you 
hide  yourself  from  nurse  ?  " 

"  'Cause  I  wanted  to  be  down-stairs,  to  listen  to 
the  grown-ups." 

"  The  grown-ups  ?    My  dear,  who  are  they  ?  " 

« Oh,  Nell,  and  Poll  Parrot,  and  Katie ;  I  don't 
mind  about  Nell  and  Polly,  but  it  isn't  fair  that 
Katie  should  be  made  a  grown-up — and  she  is — she 
is,  really,  father.  She  is  down  in  the  school-room 
so  important,  and  just  like  a  regular  grown-up,  so  I 
couldn't  stand  it." 

"  I  see.  You  wanted  to  be  a  grown-up  too — you 
are  seven  years  old,  are  you  not  ?  " 

"  I'm  more.  I'm  seven  and  a  half — Katie  is  only 
eleven." 

"  Quite  so ;  Katie  is  young  compared  to  you,  isn't 
she,  Firefly.  Still  I  don't  see  my  way.  You  wished 
to  join  the  grown-ups,  but  I  found  you  sobbing  on 


43 

the  damp  grass  under  one  of  the  shrubs  near  the 
avenue.  Is  it  really  under  a  damp  arbutus  shrub 
that  the  grown-ups  intend  to  take  counsel  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  father,  no — "  here  the  sobs  began  again. 
"  They  were  horrid,  oh  they  were  horrid.  They 
locked  me  out — I  banged  against  the  door,  but  they 
wouldn't  open.  It  was  then  I  came  up  here.  I 
wouldn't  have  minded  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Katie." 

"  I  see,  my  child.  Well,  run  to  bed  now,  and 
leave  the  matter  in  father's  hands.  Ask  nurse  to 
give  you  a  hot  drink,  and  not  to  scold,  for  father 
knows  about  it." 

"  Darling  father — oh,  how  good  you  are !  Don't 
I  love  you !  Just  another  kiss — what  a  good  father 
you  are ! " 

Firefly  hugged  the  tall  doctor  ecstatically.  He 
saw  her  disappear  into  the  house,  and  once  more 
pursued  his  way  down  the  avenue. 

"  Good ! "  he  echoed  to  himself.  "  Never  did  a 
more  harassed  man  walk.  How  am  I  to  manage 
those  girls  ?  " 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SHOULD  THE  STBANGERS  COME"? 

HELEN  and  Polly  were  seated  together  in  the 
pleasant  morning-room.  Helen  occupied  her  mother's 
chair,  her  feet  were  on  a  high  footstool,  and  by  her 
side,  on  a  small  round  table,  stood  a  large  basket 
filled  with  a  heterogeneous  collection  of  odd  socks 
and  stockings,  odd  gloves,  pieces  of  lace  and  em 
broidery,  some  wool,  a  number  of  knitting  needles, 
in  short,  a  confused  medley  of  useful  but  run-to- 


44  POLLY. 

seed -looking  articles  which  the  young  housekeeper 
was  endeavoring  to  reduce  out  of  chaos  into  order. 

"  Oh,  Polly,  how  you  have  tangled  up  all  this 
wool ;  and  where's  the  fellow  of  this  gray  glove  ? 
And — Polly,  Polly — here's  the  handkerchief  you 
had  such  a  search  for  last  week.  Now,  how  often 
do  you  intend  me  to  put  this  basket  in  order  for 
you?" 

"  Once  a  week,  dear,  if  not  of tener,"  answered 
Polly,  hi  suave  tones.  "  Please  don't  speak  for  a 
moment  or  two,  Nell.  I'm  so  much  interested  in 
this  new  recipe  for  pie-crust.  You  melt  equal 
portions  of  lard  and  butter  in  so  much  boiling  water 
— that's  according  to  the  size  of  the  pie ;  then  you 
mix  it  into  the  flour,  kneading  it  very  well — and — 
and — and—  '  Polly's  voice  dropped  to  a  kind  of 
buzz,  her  head  sank  lower  over  the  large  cookery- 
book  which  she  was  studying ;  her  elbows  were  on 
the  table,  her  short  curling  hair  fell  over  her  eyes, 
and  a  dimpled  hand  firmly  pressed  each  cheek. 

Helen  sighed  slightly,  and  returned  with  a  little 
gesture  of  resignation  to  the  disentangling  of  Polly's 
work-basket.  As  she  did  so  she  seated  herself  more 
firmly  in  her  mother's  arm-chair.  Her  little  figure 
looked  slight  in  its  deep  and  ample  dimensions,  and 
her  smooth  fair  face  was  slightly  puckered  with 
anxiety. 

"  Polly,"  she  said,  suddenly  ;  "  Polly,  leave  that 
book  alone.  There's  more  in  the  world  than  house 
keeping  and  pie-crust.  Do  you  know  that  I  have 
discovered  something,  and  I  think,  I  really  do  think, 
that  we  ought  to  go  on  with  it.  It  was  mother's 
plan,  and  father  will  always  agree  to  anything  she 
wished."  t 

Polly  shut  up  Mrs.  Beaton's  cookery-book  with 
a  bang,  rose  from  her  seat  at  the  table,  and  opening 


SHOULD  THE  STRANGERS  COME  ?  45 

the  window  sat  down  where  the  wind  could  ruffle 
her  hair  and  cool  her  hot  cheeks. 

"This  is  Friday,"  she  said,  "and  my  duties  begin 
on  Monday.  Helen,  pie-crust  is  not  unimportant 
when  success  or  failure  hangs  upon  it ;  puddings 
may  become  vital,  Helen,  and,  as  to  cheesecakes,  I 
would  stake  everything  I  possess  in  the  world  on 
the  manner  in  which  father  munches  my  first  cheese 
cake.  Well,  dear,  never  mind ;  I'll  try  and  turn 
my  distracted  thoughts  in  your  direction  for  a  bit. 
What's  the  discovery  ?  " 

"  Only,"  said  Helen,  "  that  I  think  I  know  what 
makes  father  look  so.  gray,  and  why  he  has  a  stoop, 
and  why  his  eyes  seem  so  sunken.  Of  course  there 
is  the  loss  of  our  mother,  but  that  is  not  the  only 
trouble.  I  think  he  has  another,  and  I  think  also, 
Polly,  that  he  had  this  other  trouble  before  mother 
died,  and  that  she  helped  him  to  bear  it,  and  made 
plans  to  lighten  it  for  him.  You  remember  what 
one  of  her  plans  was,  and  how  we  weren't  any  of 
us  too  well  pleased.  But  I  have  been  thinking 
lately,  since  I  began  to  guess  father's  trouble,  that 
we  ought  to  carry  it  out  just  the  same  as  if  our 
mother  was  with  us." 

"Yes,"  said  Polly.  "You  have  a  very  exciting 
way  of  putting  things,  Nell,  winding  one  up  and  up, 
and  not  letting  in  the  least  little  morsel  of  light. 
What  is  father's  trouble,  and  what  was  the  plan  ? 
I  can't  remember  any  plan,  and  I  only  know  about 
father  that  he's  the  noblest  of  all  noble  men,  and 
that  he  bears  mother's  loss — well,  as  nobody  else 
would  have  borne  it.  What  other  trouble  has  our 
dear  father,  Nell  ?  God  wouldn't  be  so  cruel  as  to 
give  him  another  trouble." 

"  God  is  never  cruel,"  said  Helen,  a  beautiful, 
steadfast  light  shining  in  her  eyes.  "  I  couldn't  le$ 


46  POLLY. 

go  the  faith  that  God  is  always  good.  But  father 
• — oh,  Polly,  Polly,  I  am  dreadfully  afraid  that  father 
is  going  to  lose  his  sight." 

"What?"  said  Polly.  «  What?  father  lose  his 
sight?  No,  I'm  not  going  to  listen  to  you,  Nell. 
You  needn't  talk  like  that.  It's  perfectly  horrid  of 
you.  I'll  go  away  at  once  and  ask  him.  Father ! 
Why  his  eyes  are  as  bright  as  possible.  I'll  go  this 
minute  and  ask  him." 

"  No,  don't  do  that,  Polly.  I  would  never  have 
ppoken  if  I  wasn't  really  sure,  and  I  don't  think  it 
would  be  right  to  ask  him,  or  to  speak  about  it,  until 
he  tells  us  about  it  himself.  But  I  began  to  guess 
it  a  little  bit  lately,  when  I  saw  how  anxious  mother 
seemed.  For  she  was  anxious,  although  she  was 
the  brightest  of  all  bright  people.  And  after  her 
death  father  said  I  was  to  look  through  some  of  her 
letters ;  and  I  found  one  or  two  which  told  me  that 
what  I  suspected  was  the  case,  and  father  may— 
indeed,  he  probably  will — become  quite  blind,  by- 
and-by.  That  was — that  was — What's  the  matter, 
Polly?" 

"  Nothing,"  said  Polly.  "  You  needn't  go  on— 
you  needn't  say  any  more.  It's  a  horrid  world, 
nothing  is  worth  living  for ;  pie-crust,  nor  house 
keeping,  nor  nothing.  I  hate  the  world,  and  every 
one  in  it,  and  I  hate  you  most  of  all,  Nell,  for  your 
horrid  news.  Father  blind !  No,  I  won't  believe  it ; 
it's  all  a  lie." 

"Poor  Polly,"  said  Helen.  "Don't  believe  it, 
dear,  I  wish  I  didn't.  I  think  I  know  a  little  bit 
how  you  feel.  I'm  not  so  hot  and  hasty  and  passion 
ate  as  you,  and  oh,  I'm  not  half,  nor  a  quarter,  so 
clever,  but  still,  I  do  know  how  you  feel ;  I — Polly, 
you  startle  me." 

«*  Only  you  don't  hate  me  at  this  moment,"  said 


SHOULD  THE  STRANGERS  COME  ?  47 

Polly.  And  I — don't  I  hate  you,  just !  There,  you 
can  say  anything  after  that.  I  know  I'm  a  wretch 
— I  know  I'm  hopeless.  Even  mother  would  say  I 
was  hopeless  if  she  saw  me  now,  hating  you,  the 
kindest  and  best  of  sisters.  But  I  do,  yes,  I  do, 
most  heartily.  So  you  see  you  aren't  like  me, 
Helen." 

"  I  certainly  never  hated  any  one,"  said  Helen. 
"  But  you  are  excited,  Polly,  and  this  news  is  a 
shock  to  you.  We  won't  talk  about  it  one  way  or 
other,  now,  and  we'll  try  as  far  as  possible  not  to 
think  of  it,  except  in  so  far  as  it  ought  to  make  us 
anxious  to  carry  out  mother's  plan." 

Polly  had  crouched  back  away  from  the  window, 
her  little  figure  all  huddled  up,  her  cheeks  with 
carnation  spots  on  them,  and  her  eyes,  brimful  of 
the  tears  which  she  struggled  not  to  shed,  were 
partly  hidden  by  the  folds  of  the  heavy  curtain 
which  half-enveloped  her. 

"  You  were  going  to  say  something  else  dreadfully 
unpleasant,"  she  remarked.  "Well,  have  it  out. 
Nothing  can  hurt  me  very  much  just  now." 

"It's  about  the  strangers,"  said  Helen.  "The 
strangers  who  were  to  come  in  October.  You  surely 
can't  have  forgotten  them,  Polly.". 

Like  magic  the  thunder-cloud  departed  from 
Polly's  face.  The  tears  dried  in  her  bright  eyes, 
and  the  curtain  no  longer  enveloped  her  slight, 
young  figure. 

"  Why,  of  course,"  she  said.  "  The  strangers,  how 
could  I  have  forgotten  !  How  curious  we  were  about 
them.  We  didn't  know  their  names.  Nothing, 
nothing  at  all — except  that  there  were  two,  and  that 
they  were  coming  from  Australia.  I  always  thought 
of  them  as  Paul  and  Virginia.  Dear,  dear,  dear,  I 


48  !>OLLY. 

shall  have  more  housekeeping  than  ever  on  my 
shoulders  with  them  about  the  place." 

"They  were  coining  in  October,"  said  Helen, 
quietly.  "Everything  was  arranged,  although  so 
little  was  known.  They  were  coming  in  a  sailing 
vessel,  and  the  voyage  was  to  be  a  long  one,  and 
mother,  herself,  was  going  to  meet  them.  Mother 
often  said  that  they  would  arrive  about  the  second 
week  in  October." 

"  In  three  weeks  from  now  ?  "  said  Polly.  "  We 
are  well  on  in  September,  now.  I  can't  imagine  how 
we  came  to  forget  Paul  and  Virginia.  Why,  of 
course,  poor  children,  they  must  be  quite  anxious  to 
get  to  us.  I  wonder  if  I'd  be  a  good  person  to  go 
and  meet  them.  You  are  so  shy  with  strangers  you 
know,  Nell,  and  I'm  not.  Mother  used  to  say  I 
didn't  know  what  mauvaise  honte  meant.  I  don't 
say  that  I  like  meeting  them,  poor  things,  but  I'll 
do  it,  if  it's  necessary.  Still,  Helen,  I  cannot  make 
out  what  special  plan  there  is  in  the  strangers  com 
ing.  Nor  what  it  has  to  do  with  father,  with  that 
horrid  piece  of  news  you  told  me  a  few  minutes 
ago." 

"  It  has  a  good  deal  to  say  to  it,  if  you  will  only 
listen,"  said  Helen.  "  I  have  discovered  by  mother's 
letters  that  the  father  of  the  strangers  is  to  pay  to 
our  father  £400  a  year  as  long  as  his  children  live 
here.  They  were  to  be  taught,  and  everything  done 
for  them,  and  the  strangers'  father  was  to  send  over 
a  cheque  for  £100  for  them  every  quarter.  Now 
Polly,  listen.  Our  father  is  not  poor,  but  neither 
is  he  rich,  and  if — if  what  we  fear  is  going  to  happen, 
he  won't  earn  nearly  so  much  money  in  his  profes 
sion.  So  it  seems  a  great  pity  he  should  lose  this 
chance  of  earning  £400  a  year." 

**  But  nobody  wants  him  to  lose  it,"  said  Polly, 


"  Paul  and  Virginia  will  be  here  in  three  weeks,  and 
then  the  pay  will  begin.  £400  a  year — let  me  see, 
that's  just  about  eight  pounds  a  week,  that's  what 
father  says  he  spends  on  the  house,  that's  a  lot  to 
spend,  I  could  do  it  for  much  less.  But  no  matter. 
What  are  you  puckering  your  brows  for,  Helen? 
Of  course  the  strangers  are  coming. 

"Father  said  they  were  not  to  come,"  replied 
Helen.  "  He  told  me  so  some  weeks  ago.  When 
they  get  to  the  docks  he  himself  is  going  to  meet 
them,  and  he  will  take  them  to  another  home  which 
he  has  been  inquiring  about.  He  says  that  we  can't 
have  them  here  now." 

"But  we  must  have  them  here,"  said  Polly. 
"  What  nonsense !  We  must  both  of  us  speak  to 
our  father  at  once." 

"  I  have  been  thinking  it  over,"  said  Helen,  in  her 
gentle  voice,  "  and  I  do  really  feel  that  it  is  a  pity  to 
lose  this  chance  of  helping  father  and  lightening  his 
cares.  You  see,  Polly,  it  depends  on  us.  Father 
would  do  it  if  he  could  trust  us,  you  and  me,  I 
mean." 

« Well,  so  he  can  trust  us,"  replied  Polly,  glibly. 
"  Everything  will  be  all  right.  There's  no  occasion 
to  make  a  fuss,  or  to  be  frightened.  We  have  got 
to  be  firm,  and  rather  old  for  our  years,  and  if  either 
of  us  puts  down  her  foot  she  has  got  to  keep  it 
down." 

"  I  don't  know  that  at  all,"  said  Helen.  "  Mother 
sometimes  said  it  was  wise  to  yield.  Oh,  Polly,  I 
don't  feel  at  all  wise  enough  for  all  that  is  laid  on 
me.  We  have  to  be  examples  in  everything.  I  do 
want  to  help  father,  but  it  would  be  worse  to  promise 
to  help  him  and  then  to  fail." 

"I'm  not  the  least  afraid,"  said  Polly.  "The 
strangers  must  come,  and  father's  purse  must  be 


50  POLLY. 

filled  in  that  jolly  manner.  I  don't  believe  the  story 
about  his  eyes,  Nell,  but  it  will  do  him  good  to  feel 
that  he  has  got  a  couple  of  steady  girls  like  us  to  see 
to  him.  Now  I'm  arranging  a  list  of  puddings  for 
next  week,  so  you  had  better  not  talk  any  more. 
We'll  speak  to  father  about  Paul  and  Virginia  after 
dinner." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

LIMITS. 

EVEN  the  wisest  men  know  very  little  of  house 
hold  management,  and  never  did  an  excellent  and 
well-intentioned  individual  put,  to  use  a  well-known 
phrase,  his  foot  more  completely  into  it  than  Dr. 
Maybright  when  he  allowed  Polly  to  learn  ex 
perience  by  taking  the  reins  of  household  manage 
ment  for  a  week. 

Except  in  matters  that  related  to  his  own  pro 
fession,  Dr.  Maybright  was  apt  to  be  slightly  absent- 
minded  ;  here  he  was  always  keenly  alive.  When 
visiting  a  patient  not  a  symptom  escaped  him,  not 
a  nicker  of  timid  eyelids  passed  unnoticed,  not  a 
passing  shade  of  color  on  the  invalid's  countenance 
but  called  for  his  acute  observation.  In  household 
matters,  however,  he  was  apt  to  overlook  trifles,  and 
very  often  completely  to  forget  what  seemed  to  his 
family  important  arrangements.  He  was  the  kind 
of  man  who  was  sure  to  be  very  much  beloved  at 
.home,  for  he  was  neither  fretful  nor  fussy,  but  took 
large  views  of  all  things.  Such  people  are  appreci 
ated,  and  if  his  children  thought  him  the  best  of  all 
xnen,  his  servants  also  spoke  of  him  as  the  most 
perfect  of  masters. 

"You    might  put  anything   before  him,"  Mrs. 


LIMITS.  51 

Power  would  aver.  "Bless  his  'art,  he  wouldn't 
see,  nor  he  wouldn't  scold.  Ef  it  were  rinsings  of 
the  teapot  he  would  drink  it  instead  of  soup ;  and 
I  say,  and  always  will  say,  that  ef  a  cook  don't  jelly 
the  soup  for  the  like  of  a  gentleman  like  the  doctor 
what  have  no  mean  ways  and  no  fusses,  she  ain't 
fit  to  call  herself  a  cook." 

So  just  because  they  loved  him,  Dr.  Maybright's 
servants  kept  his  table  fairly  well,  and  his  house 
tolerably  clean,  and  the  domestic  machinery  went 
on  wheels,  not  exactly  oiled,  but  with  no  serious  clog 
to  their  progress. 

These  things  of  course  happened  since  Mrs.  May 
bright's  death.  In  her  day  this  gentlest  and  firmest 
of  mistresses,  this  most  tactful  of  women,  kept  all 
things  in  their  proper  place,  and  her  servants  obeyed 
her  with  both  will  and  cheerfulness. 

On  the  Saturday  before  Polly's  noviciate  poor  Dr. 
Maybright's  troubles  began.  He  had  completely 
forgotten  all  about  his  promise  to  Polly,  and  was 
surprised  when  the  little  girl  skipped  into  his  study 
after  breakfast,  with  her  black  frock  put  on  more 
neatly  than  usual,  her  hair  well  brushed  and  pushed 
off  her  face,  and  a  wonderful  brown  holland  apron 
enveloping  her  from  her  throat  to  her  ankles.  The 
apron  had  several  pockets,  and  certainly  gave  Polly 
a  quaint  and  original  appearance. 

"  Here  I  am,  father,"  she  said.  "  I  have  come  for 
the  money,  please." 

"The— the  what,  my  dear?" 

Dr.  Maybright  put  up  his  eyeglass,  and  surveyed 
the  little  figure  critically. 

"  Are  these  pockets  for  your  school-books  ?  "  he 
said.  "  It  is  not  a  bad  idea  ;  only  don't  lose  them, 
Polly.  I  don't  like  untidy  books  scattered  here  and 
there." 


52  POLLY. 

Polly  took  the  opportunity  to  dart  a  quick,  anx 
ious  glance  into  her  father's  eyes — they  were  bright, 
dark,  clear.  Of  course  Helen's  horrid  story  was  un 
true.  Her  spirits  rose,  she  gave  a  little  skip,  and 
clasped  her  hands  on  the  Doctor's  arm. 

"  These  are  housekeeping  pockets,  father,"  she 
said.  "  Nothing  at  all  to  say  to  books.  I'm  do 
mestic,  not  intellectual ;  my  housekeeping  begins  on 
Monday,  you  know,  and  I've  come  for  the  eighty 
shillings  now.  Can  you  give  it  to  me  in  silver,  not 
in  gold,  for  I  want  to  divide  it,  and  pop  it  into  the 
little  box  with  divisions  at  once  ?  " 

"  Bless  me,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  I'd  forgotten — I 
did  not  know  that  indigestion  week  was  so  near. 
Well,  here  you  are,  Polly,  two  pounds  in  gold  and 
two  pounds  in  silver.  I  can't  manage  more  than 
two  sovereigns'  worth  of  silver,  I  fear.  Now  my 
love,  as  you  are  strong,  be  merciful — give  us  only 
small  doses  of  poison  at  each  meal.  I  beseech  of 
you,  Polly,  be  temperate  in  your  zeal." 

"  You  laugh  at  me,"  said  Polly.  "  Well,  never 
mind.  I'm  too  happy  to  care.  I  don't  expect  you'll 
talk  about  poisoning  when  you  have  eaten  my 
cheesecakes.  And  father,  dear  father,  you  will  let 
Paul  and  Virginia  come?  Nell  and  I  meant  to 
speak  to  you  yesterday  about  them,  but  you  were 
out  all  day.  With  me  to  housekeep,  and  Nell  to 
look  after  everybody,  you  needn't  have  the  smallest 
fear  about  Paul  and  Virginia ;  they  can  come  and 
they  can  line  your  pockets,  can't  they  ? 

"  My  dear  child,  I  have  not  an  idea  what  you  are 
talking  about.  Who  are  Paul  and  Virginia — have  I 
not  a  large  enough  family  without  taking  in  the  in 
habitants  of  a  desert  island  ?  There,  I  can't  wait  to 
hear  explanations  now ;  that  is  my  patients'  bell- 
run  away,  my  dear,  run  away." 


LIMITS.  53 

Dr.  Maybright  always  saw  his  poorer  patients 
gratis  on  Saturday  morning  from  ten  to  twelve. 
This  part  of  his  work  pleased  him,  for  he  was  the 
sort  of  man  who  thought  that  the  affectionate  and 
grateful  glance  in  the  eye,  and  the  squeeze  of  the 
hand,  and  the  "  God  bless  you,  doctor,"  paid  in  many 
cases  better  thah  the  guinea's  worth.  He  had  an 
interesting  case  this  morning,  and  again  Polly  and 
her  housekeeping  slipped  from  his  mind.  He  was 
surprised,  therefore,  in  the  interim  between  the  de 
parture  of  one  patient  and  the  arrival  of  another,  to 
hear  a  somewhat  tremulous  tap  at  his  study  door, 
and  on  his  saying  "  Come  in,"  to  see  the  pretty  but 
decidedly  ruffled  face  of  his  housemaid  Alice  pre 
senting  herself. 

"  Ef  you  please,  Doctor,  I  won't  keep  you  a 
minute,  but  I  thought  I'd  ask  you  myself  ef  it's 
your  wish  as  Miss  Polly  should  go  and  give  orders 
that  on  Monday  morning  I'm  to  turn  the  linen-press 
out  from  top  to  bottom,  and  to  do  it  first  of  all  be 
fore  the  rooms  is  put  straight.  And  if  I'm  to  unpick 
the  blue  muslin  curtains,  and  take  them  down  from 
where  they  was  hung  by  my  late  blessed  mistress's 
orders,  in  the  spare  room,  and  to  fit  them  into  the 
primrose  room  over  the  porch — for  she  says  there's 
a  Miss  Virginy  and  a  Master  Paul  coming,  and  the 
primrose  room  with  the  blue  curtains  is  for  one  of 
them,  she  says.  And  I  want  to  know  from  you, 
please,  Doctor,  if  Miss  Polly  is  to  Mistress  it  over 
me  ?  And  to  take  away  the  keys  of  the  linen-press 
from  me,  and  to  follow  me  round,  and  to  upset  all 
my  work,  what  I  never  stood  nor  would  stand.  I 
want  to  know  if  it's  your  wish,  Doctor  ?  " 

"  The  fact  is,  Alice,"  began  the  Doctor — he  put 
his  hand  to  his  brow,  and  a  dim  look  came  over  his 
eyes — "  the  fact  is — ah,  that  is  my  patients'  bell,  I 


54  POLLY. 

must  ask  you  to  go,  Alice,  and  to — to  moderate  your 
feelings.  I  have  been  anxious  to  give  Miss  Polly  a 
lesson  in  experience,  and  it  is  only  for  a  week.  You 
will  oblige  me  very  much,  Alice,  by  helping  me  in 
this  matter." 

The  doctor  walked  to  the  door  as  he  spoke,  and 
opened  it  courteously. 

"Come  in,  Johnson,"  he  said,  to  a  ruddy-faced 
farmer,  who  was  accompanied  by  a  shy  boy  with  a 
swelled  face.  "  Come  in ;  glad  to  see  you,  my 
friend,  Is  Tommy's  toothache  better  ?  " 

Alice  said  afterwards  that  she  never  felt  smaller 
in  her  life  than  when  Dr.  Maybright  opened  the 
study  door  to  show  her  out. 

"  Ef  I'd  been  a  queen  he  couldn't  have  done  it 
more  elegant,"  she  remarked.  "  Eh,  but  he's  a 
blessed  man,  and  one  would  put  up  with  two  Miss 
Pollys  for  the  sake  of  serving  him." 

The  Doctor  having  conquered  Alice,  again  forgot 
his  second  daughter's  vagaries,  but  a  much  sterner 
and  more  formidable  interview  was  in  store  for  him  ; 
it  was  one  thing  to  conquer  Alice,  who  was  impres 
sionable,  and  had  a  soft  heart,  and  another  to  en 
counter  the  stony  visage  and  rather  awful  presence 
of  Mrs.  Power. 

"  It's  to  give  notice  I've  come,  Dr.  Maybright," 
she  said,  dropping  a  curtsey,  and  twisting  a  corner 
of  her  large  white  apron  round  with  one  formidable 
red  hand.  "It's  to  give  notice.  This  day  month, 
please,  Doctor ;  and,  though  I  says  it  as  shouldn't, 
you  won't  get  no  one  else  to  jelly  your  soups,  nor 
feather  your  potatoes,  nor  puff  your  pastry,  as  Jane 
Power  has  done.  But  there's  limits,  Dr.  Maybright ; 
and  I  has  come  to  give  you  notice,  though  out  of  no 
disrespect  to  you,  sir." 

w  Then  why  do  you  do  it,  Mrs.  Power  ?  "  said  the 


LIMITS.  55 

Doctor.  "You  are  an  honest  and  conscientious 
servant,  I  know  that  from  your  late  mistress's  tes 
timony.  You  cook  very  good  dinners,  too,  and  you 
make  suitable  puddings  for  the  children  and  pastry 
not  too  rich.  Why  do  you  want  to  leave  ?  I  don't 
like  change  ;  and,  if  it  is  a  question  of  wages,  per 
haps  I  may  be  able  to  meet  you." 

"  I'm  obligated  to  you,  Doctor  ;  but  it  ain't  that. 
I  has  my  twenty-two  pounds  paid  regular,  and  all 
found.  I  ain't  grumbling  on  that  score,  and  Jane 
Power  was  never  havaricious  nor  grasping.  I'm 
obligated  too  by  what  you  says  with  respect  to  the 
pastry ;  but,  Doctor,  it  ain't  in  mortal  woman  to 
stand  a  chit  of  a  child  being  put  over  her.  So  I'm 
going  this  day  month  ;  and,  with  your  leave,  I'll  turn 
the  key  in  the  kitchen-door  next  week,  or  else  I'll 
forfeit  my  wage  and  go  at  once." 

"  Dear,  dear,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  This  is  really 
embarrassing.  I  never  thought  that  Polly's  expe 
rience  would  upset  the  household  economy  in  so 
marked  a  manner.  I  am  really  annoyed,  for  I  cer 
tainly  gave  her  leave  to  housekeep  for  a  week." 

"  It  isn't  as  I  minds  youth,  Dr.  May  bright,"  con 
tinued  Mrs.  Power.  "  I  makes  due  allowances  for 
the  young,  for  I  says  to  myself,  '  Jane  Power,  you 
was  once,  so  to  speak,  like  an  unfledged  chick  your 
self  ;  '  but  there's  youth  and  youth,  Dr.  Maybright ; 
and  Miss  Polly's  of  the  kind  as  makes  your  'air  stand 
on  hend." 

"  Poor  Polly,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  No,  sir,  begging  your  parding,  if  you  was  in  the 
kitchen,  it's  '  poor  Mrs.  Power  '  you'd  be  a-saying. 
Now  I  don't  say  nothing  agin  Miss  Nelly — she's  the 
elder,  and  she  have  nice  ways  with  her — she  takes 
a  little  bit  after  my  poor  dear  mistress ;  oh,  what  a 
nature  was  hers,  blessed  angel  I " 


56  POLLY. 

Here  Mrs.  Power  rolled  her  eyes  skywards,  and 
the  Doctor,  turning  his  back,  walked  to  the  window. 

"  Be  brief,"  he  said,  "  I  am  pressed  for  time." 

"  Sir,  I  was  never  one  for  long  words ;  agen'  Miss 
Helen  I  haven't  a  word  to  say.  She  comes  down  to 
the  kitchen  after  breakfast  as  pretty  as  you  please, 
and  she  says,  *  Power,'  says  she,  'you'll  advise  me 
about  the  dinner  to-day,'  says  she.  '  Shall  we  have 
minced  collops,  or  roast  beef?  And  shall  we  have 
fruit  tart  with  custard  ? '  Pretty  dear,  she  don't  know 
nothink,  and  she  owns  it,  and  I  counsel  her,  as  who 
that  wasn't  the  most  hard-hearted  would.  But  Miss 
Polly,  she's  all  on  wires  like,  and  she  bounds  in  and 
she  says  that  I  pepper  the  soup  too  strong,  and  that 
I  ought  to  go  to  cookery  schools,  and  ef  I'll  go  with 
her  that  blessed  minit  she'll  tell  me  what  I  wants 
in  my  own  store-room.  There's  limits,  Dr.  May- 
bright,  and  Miss  Polly's  my  limits ;  so  ef  you'll 
have  no  objection,  sir,  I'll  go  this  day  month." 

"  But  I  have  an  objection,"  replied  Dr.  Maybright. 
"  Even  Polly's  experiment  must  not  cost  me  a  valu 
able  servant.  Mrs.  Power,  I  have  promised  my 
little  girl,  and  I  feel  more  than  convinced  that  her 
week.'s  trial  will  ensure  to  you  the  freedom  you  desire 
and  deserve  in  the  future.  Listen,  I  have  a  plan. 
"  Suppose  you  go  for  a  week's  holiday  on  Monday  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  word,  sir !  And  are  you  to  be  poisoned 
hout  and  hout  ?  " 

"  That  is  unlikely.  Maggie,  your  kitchen-maid, 
is  fond  of  cooking,  and  she  won't  quarrel  with  Miss 
Polly.  Let  us  consider  it  arranged,  then.  A  week's 
holiday  won't  do  you  any  harm,  cook,  and  your 
expenses  I  will  defray.  Now,  excuse  me,  I  must  go 
out  at  once  The  carriage  has  been  at  the  door  for 
some  time." 


INDIGESTION  WEEK.  57 

CHAPTER  X. 

INDIGESTION    WEEK. 

IT  was  quite  early  on  the  following  Monday  morn 
ing  when  a  light  tap  was  heard  outside  the  door  of 
the  room  where  Helen  and  Polly  slept.  It  was  a 
very  light,  modest,  and  uncertain  tap,  and  it  had 
not  the  smallest  effect  upon  Helen,  who  lay  in  soft 
slumber,  her  pretty  eyes  closed,  her  gentle  face  calm 
and  rounded  and  child-like,  and  the  softest  breathing 
coming  from  her  rosy,  parted  lips. 

Another  little  girl,  however,  was  not  asleep.  At 
that  modest  tap  up  sprang  a  curly  head,  two  dark, 
bright  eyes  opened  wide,  two  white  feet  sprang 
quickly  but  noiselessly  on  to  the  floor,  and  Polly  had 
opened  the  bedroom  door  wide  to  admit  the  short, 
dumpy,  but  excited  little  person  of  Maggie,  the 
kitchen-maid. 

"  She's  a-going,  Miss  Polly — she's  a-packing  her 
bandbox  now,  and  putting  the  strap  on.  She's  in  a 
hawful  temper,  but  she'll  be  out  of  the  house  in  less 
than  half  an  hour.  There's  a  beautiful  fire  in  the 
kitchen,  Miss,  and  the  pan  for  frying  bacon  is  pol 
ished  up  so  as  you  could  'most  see  yourself  in  it. 
And  the  egg-saucepan  is  there  all  'andy,  and  the 
kettle  fizzing  and  sputtering.  I  took  cook  up  her 
breakfast,  but  she  said  she  didn't  want  none  of  our 
poisonous  messes,  and  she'd  breakfast  with  her 
cousin  in  the  village  if  we'd  no  objection.  She'll 
be  gone  in  no  time  now,  Miss  Polly,  and  I'm  a- 
wanting  to  know  when  you'll  be  a-coming  down 
stairs." 


58  POLLY. 

"  I'm  going  to  dress  immediately,  Maggie,"  said 
Polly.  "  I've  scarcely  slept  all  night,  for  this  is  an 
anxious  moment  for  me.  I'll  join  you  in  half  an 
hour  at  the  latest,  Maggie,  and  have  lots  of  sauce 
pans  and  frying-pans  and  gridirons  ready.  Keep 
the  fire  well  up  too,  and  see  that  the  oven  is  hot. 
There,  fly  away,  I'll  join  you  soon." 

Maggie,  who  was  only  sixteen  herself,  almost 
skipped  down  the  passage.  After  the  iron  reign  of 
Mrs.  Power,  to  work  for  Polly  seemed  like  play  to 
her. 

"  She's  a  duck,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  a  real  cosy 
duck  of  a  young  lady.  Oh,  my  word,  won't  we  spin 
through  the  stores  this  week  !  Won't  we  just !  " 

Meanwhile  Polly  was  hastily  getting  into  her 
clothes.  She  did  not  wish  to  wake  Helen,  for  she 
was  most  anxious  that  no  one  should  know  that  on 
the  first  morning  of  her  housekeeping  she  had  arisen 
soon  after  six  o'clock.  Her  plans  were  all  laid 
beforehand,  and  a  wonderfully  methodical  and  well 
arranged  program,  considering  her  fourteen  years, 
was  hers ;  she  was  all  agog  with  eagerness  to  carry  it 
out. 

"  Oh,  won't  they  have  a  breakfast  this  morning," 
she  said  to  herself.  "  Won't  they  open  their  eyes, 
and  won't  Bob  and  Bunny  look  greedy.  And  Fire 
fly,  I  must  watch  Firefly  over  those  hot  cakes,  or  she 
may  make  herself  sick.  Poor  father  and  Nell — 
they'll  both  be  afraid  at  first  that  I'm  a  little  too 
lavish  and  inclined  to  be  extravagant,  but  they'll 
see  by  and  by,  and  they'll  acknowledge  deep  down 
in  their  hearts  that  there  never  was  such  a  house 
keeper  as  Polly." 

As  the  little  maid  dreamed  these  pleasant 
thoughts  she  scrambled  somewhat  untidily  into  her 
clothes,  gave  her  hair  a  somewhat  less  careful  brush 


INDIGESTION  WEEK.  59 

than  usual,  and  finally  knelt  down  to  say  her  morn 
ing  prayer.  Helen  still  slept,  and  Polly  by  a  sudden 
impulse  chose  to  kneel  by  Helen's  bed  and  not  her 
own.  She  pressed  her  curly  head  against  the 
mattress,  and  eagerly  whispered  her  petition.  She 
was  excited  and  sanguine,  for  this  was  to  her  a 
moment  of  triumph  ;  but  as  she  prayed  a  feeling  of 
rest  and  yet  of  longing  overpowered  her. 

**  Oh,  I  am  happy  to-day,"  she  murmured — "  but 
oh,  mother,  oh,  mother,  I'd  give  everything  in  all  the 
wide  world  to  have  you  back  again !  I'd  live  on  bread 
and  water — I'd  spend  years  in  a  garret  just  for  you 
to  kiss  me  once  again,  mother,  mother ! " 

Helen  stirred  in  her  sleep,  for  Polly's  last  impul 
sive  words  were  spoken  aloud. 

"  Has  mother  come  back  ?  "  she  asked. 

Her  eyes  were  closed,  she  was  dreaming.  Polly 
bent  down  and  answered  her. 

"  No,"  she  said.  "  It  is  only  me — the  most  foolish 
of  all  her  children,  who  wants  her  so  dreadfully." 

Helen  sighed,  and  turned  her  head  uneasily,  and 
Polly,  wiping  away  some  moisture  from  her  eyes, 
ran  out  of  the  room. 

Her  housekeeping  apron  was  on,  her  precious 
money  box  was  under  her  arm,  the  keys  of  the  linen- 
press  jingled  against  a  thimble  and  a  couple  of 
pencils  in  the  front  pocket  of  the  apron.  Polly  was 
going  down- stairs  to  fulfil  her  great  mission  ;  it  was 
impossible  for  her  spirits  long  to  be  downcast.  The 
house  was  deliciously  still,  for  only  the  servants  were 
up  at  present,  but  the  sun  sent  in  some  rays  of 
brightness  at  the  large  lobby  windows,  and  the  little 
girl  laughed  aloud  in  her  glee. 

"  Good  morning,  sun  !  it  is  nice  of  you  to  smile  at 
me  the  first  morning  of  my  great  work.  It  is  very 
good-natured  of  you  to  come  instead  of  sending  that 


60  POLLY. 

disagreeable  friend  of  yours,  Mr.  Rain.  Oh,  how 
delicious  it  is  to  be  up  early.  Why,  it  is  not  half- 
past  six  yet — oh,  what  a  breakfast  I  shall  prepare 
for  father ! " 

In  the  kitchen,  which  was  a  large,  cheerful  apart 
ment  looking  out  on  the  vegetable  garden,  Polly 
found  her  satellite,  Maggie,  on  the  very  tiptoe  of 
expectation. 

"  I  has  laid  the  servants'  breakfast  in  the  'all,  Miss 
Polly ;  I  thought  as  you  shouldn't  be  bothered  with 
them,  with  so  to  speak  such  a  lot  on  your  hands  this 
morning.  So  I  has  laid  it  there,  and  lit  a  fire  for 
them,  and  all  Jane  has  to  do  when  she's  ready  is  to 
put  the  kettle  on,  for  the  tea's  on  the  table  in  the 
small  black  caddy,  so  there'll  be  no  worriting  over 
them.  And  ef  you  please,  Miss  Polly,  I  made  bold 
to  have  a  cup  of  tea  made  and  ready  for  you,  Miss — 
here  it  is,  if  you  please,  Miss,  and  a  cut  off  the  brown 
home-made  loaf." 

"  Delicious,"  said  Polly  ;  "  I  really  am  as  hungry 
as  possible,  although  I  did  not  know  it  until  I  saw 
this  nice  brown  bread-and-butter.  Why,  you  have 
splendid  ideas  in  you,  Maggie ;  you'll  make  a  first- 
rate  cook  yet.  But  now  " — here  the  young  house 
keeper  thought  it  well  to  put  on  a  severe  manner — 
"  I  must  know  what  breakfast  you  have  arranged 
for  the  servants'  hall.  It  was  good-natured  of  you 
to  think  of  saving  me  trouble,  Maggie,  but  please 
understand  that  during  this  week  you  do  nothing 
on  your  own  responsibility.  -Tarn  the  housekeeper, 
and  although  I  don't  say  I  am  old,  I  am  quite  old 
enough  to  be  obeyed." 

"  Very  well,  Miss,"  said  Maggie,  who  had  gone  to 
open  her  oven,  and  poke  up  the  fire  while  Polly  was 
speaking ;  "  it's  a  weight  off  my  shoulders,  Miss,  for 
I  wasn't  never  one  to  be  bothered  with  thinking. 


INDIGESTION  WEEK.  61 

Mother  says  as  I  haven't  brains  as  would  go  on  the 
top  of  a  sixpenny-bit,  so  what's  to  be  expected  of  me, 
Miss.  There,  the  oven's  all  of  a  beautiful  glow,  and 
'ull  bake  lovely.  You  was  asking  what  breakfast  I 
has  put  in  the  servants'  'all — well,  cold  bacon  and 
plenty  of  bread,  and  a  good  pat  of  the  cooking 
butter.  Why,  Miss  Polly,  oh,  lor,  what  is  the  mat 
ter,  Miss?" 

"  Only  that  you  have  done  very  wrong,  Maggie," 
said  Polly.  "  You  would  not  like  to  have  lots  of 
good  things  going  up  to  the  dining-room,  and  have 
no  share  yourself.  I  call  it  selfish  of  you,  Maggie, 
for  of  course  you  knew  you  would  be  in  the  kitchen 
with  me,  and  would  be  sure  to  come  in  for  bits.  Cold 
bacon,  indeed !  Poor  servants,  they're  not  likely  to 
care  for  my  housekeeping  if  that  is  all  I  provide  for 
them !  No,  Maggie,  when  I  made  out  my  pro 
gramme,  I  thought  of  the  servants  as  well  as  the 
family.  I  will  just  refer  to  my  tablets,  Maggie,  and 
see  what  breakfast  I  arranged  for  the  hall  for  Mon 
day  morning." 

While  Polly  was  speaking  Maggie  opened  her  eyes 
and  mouth  wider  and  wider  and  when  the  young 
lady  read  aloud  from  her  tablets  she  could  not  sup 
press  an  expostulatory  "  oh !  " 

"Monday — kitchen  breakfast,"  read  Polly — 
"  Bacon,  eggs,  marmalade,  sardines.  Hot  coffee,  fresh 
rolls,  if  possible." 

"  My  word,  but  that  is  wasteful,"  said  Maggie. 

Polly's  cheeks  flushed.  She  glanced  at  her  small 
handmaid,  raised  her  hand  in  a  reproving  manner, 
and  continued  to  read — 

"  Dining-room  breakfast :  Hot  scones,  baked 
muffins,  eggs  and  bacon,  devilled  kidneys,  scrambled 
eggs,  a  dish  of  kippered  herrings,  marmalade,  honey, 
jam,  tea  and  coffee.  Oh,  and  chocolate  for  Firefly/' 


62  POLLY. 

**  My  word,  Miss,"  again  exclaimed  Maggie.  "  It'g 
seven  o'clock  now,  and  the  Doctor  likes  his  breakfast 
sharp  on  the  table  at  eight.  If  we  has  to  get  all  this 
ready  hi  an  hour  we  had  better  fly  round  and  lose  no 
more  time.  I'll  see  to  the  'all,  bless  your  kind  'eart, 
Miss  Polly,  but  we'd  better  get  on  with  the  dining- 
room  breakfast,  or  there'll  be  nothing  ready  in  any 
thing  like  time.  Will  you  mix  up  the  cakes,  Miss 
Polly,  while  I  sees  to  the  kidneys,  and  to  the  bacon 
and  eggs,  and  the  scrambled  eggs,  and  the  kippers. 
My  word,  but  there'll  be  a  power  more  sent  up  than 
can  be  eaten.  But  whatever  goes  wrong  we  should 
have  the  cakes  in  the  oven,  Miss  Polly." 

Polly  did  not  altogether  approve  of  Maggie's  tone, 
but  time  did  press ;  the  kitchen  clock  already  pointed 
to  five  minutes  past  seven ;  it  was  much  easier  to 
write  out  a  programme  up-stairs  at  one's  leisure  in 
the  pleasant  morning-room  than  to  carry  it  out  in  a 
hurry,  in  the  hot  kitchen,  particularly  when  one's 
own  knowledge  was  entirely  theoretical,  not  prac 
tical.  Yes,  the  kitchen  was  very  hot,  and  time  never 
seemed  to  fly  so  fast. 

"  First  of  all,  open  the  window,  Maggie ;  it  is 
wrong  to  have  rooms  so  hot  as  this,"  said  the  young 
housekeeper,  putting  on  her  most  authoritative 
air. 

"No,  Miss,  that  I  mustn't,"  said  Maggie,  firmly. 
"  You'd  cool  down  the  oven  in  less  than  five  minutes. 
Now,  shall  I  fetch  you  the  flour  and  things  from  the 
store-room,  Miss  ?  Why,  dear  me,  your  cheeks  has 
peonyed  up  wonderful.  You're  new  to  it  yet,  Miss, 
but  you'll  soon  take  it  quiet-like.  Cold  bacon  is  a 
very  nice  breakfast  for  the  'all,  Miss,  and  cooking 
butter's  all  that  servants  is  expected  to  eat  of.  Now 
shall  I  fetch  you  the  flour  and  the  roller,  and  th« 
milk,  Miss  Polly  ?  " 


INDIGESTION  WEEK.  63 

u  Yes,  get  them,"  said  Polly.  She  felt  decidedly 
annoyed  and  cross.  "  I  wish  you  would  not  talk  so 
much,  Maggie,"  she  said ;  "  go  and  fetch  the  materials 
for  the  hot  cakes." 

"  But  I  don't  know  yet  what  I'm  to  get,  Miss.  Is 
it  a  dripping  cake,  or  is  it  a  cream  cake,  or  is  it  a 
butter-and-egg  cake  ?  I'll  bring  you  things  accord 
ing,  Miss  Polly,  if  you'll  be  so  good  as  to  instruct 
me." 

"  Oh  dear,  oh  dear,"  said  Polly,  "  you  make  my 
head  go  round,  when  you  mention  so  many  kinds  of 
cake,  Maggie.  I  really  thought  you  knew  something 
of  cooking.  I  just  want  hot  cakes.  I  don't  care 
what  kind  they  are ;  oh,  I  supp©se  we  had  better 
have  the  richest  to-day.  Get  the  material  for  the 
butter-and-egg  cake,  Maggie,  and  do  be  quick." 

Thus  admonished,  Maggie  did  move  off  with  a 
dubious  look  on  her  face  in  the  direction  of  the  store 
room. 

"  She  don't  know  nothing,  poor  dear,"  she  said  to 
herself  ;  "  she  aims  high — she's  eat  up  with  ambition, 
but  she  don't  know  nothing.  It's  lucky  we  in  the 
'all  is  to  have  the  cold  bacon.  I  don't  know  how  to 
make  a  butter-and-egg  hot  cake — oh,  my  word,  a  fine 
scolding  Mrs.  Power  will  give  us  when  she  comes 
back," 

Here  Maggie  approached  the  store-room  door. 
Then  she  uttered  a  loud  and  piercing  exclamation 
and  flew  back  to  Polly. 

"  She's  gone  and  done  us,  Miss  Polly,"  she  ex 
claimed,  "  She's  gone  and  done  us  !  Cook's  off,  and 
the  key  of  the  store-room  in  her  pocket.  There's 
nothing  for  breakfast,  Miss  Polly — no  eggs,  no  but 
ter,  no  marmalade,  no  sugar,  no  nothing." 

Poor  Polly's  rosy  little  face  turned  white. 

w  It  can't  be  true,"  she  said.    And  she  flew  down 


(54  POLLY. 

tiio  passage  to  the  store-room  herself.  Alas!  onlj 
U>  peep  through  the  key-hole,  for  the  inhospitable 
door  was  firmly  locked,  and  nowhere  could  the  key 
be  discovered. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A WAS  AN   APPLE  PIB. 

THE  first  day  of  Polly's  housekeeping  was  long 
remembered  in  the  household.  In  the  first  place, 
the  breakfast,  though  fairly  abundant,  was  plain. 
A  large  piece  of  cold  bacon  graced  one  end  of  the 
board,  a  brown  loaf  stood  on  a  trencher  in  the 
centre,  and  when  Helen  took  her  place  opposite  the 
tea-tray  she  found  herself  provided  with  plenty  of 
milk  and  sugar,  certainly,  and  a  large  teapot  of 
strong  tea,  but  the  sugar  was  brown.  No  butter,  no 
marmalade,  no  jams,  no  hot  cakes,  graced  the  board. 
The  children  spoke  of  the  fare  as  severe,  and  the 
Doctor's  dark  brown  eyes  twinkled  as  he  helped  his 
family  to  abundant  slices  of  cold  bacon. 

**  Not  a  word,"  hs  said,  in  a  loud  aside  to  his  boys 
and  girls.  "  I  did  not  think  it  was  in  Polly  to  be  so 
sensible.  "Why  we  shall  get  through  indigestion 
week  quite  comfortably,  if  she  provides  us  with 
plain,  wholesome  fare  like  this." 

Polly  took  her  own  place  at  the  table  rather  late. 
Her  cheeks  were  still  peonyed,  as  Maggie  expressed 
it,  her  eyes  were  downcast,  her  spirits  were  de 
cidedly  low,  and  she  had  a  very  small  appetite. 

After  breakfast  she  beat  a  hasty  retreat,  and 
presently  the  boys  rushed  in  in  great  excitement,  to 
announce  to  Helen  and  Katie  the  interesting  fact 
that  Polly  was  walking  across  the  fields  accompanied 


A— WAS  AN  APPLE  PIE.  65 

by  Maggie,  each  of  them  laden  with  a  large  market- 
basket. 

"They  are  almost  running,  both  of  them,"  ex 
claimed  Bunny,  "  and  pretty  Poll  is  awful  cross,  for 
when  we  wanted  to  go  with  her  she  just  turned 
round  and  said  we'd  have  a  worse  dinner  than  break 
fast  if  we  didn't  leave  her  alone." 

"  We  ran  away  quickly  enough  after  that,"  con 
tinued  Bob,  "  for  we  didn't  want  no  more  cold-bacon 
and  no-butter  meals.  We  had  a  nasty  breakfnst 
to-day,  hadn't  we,  Nell  ?  And  Poll  is  a  bad  houue. 
keeper,  isn't  she  ?  " 

"  Oh  leave  her  alone,  do,"  said  Helen.  "  She  is 
trying  her  very  best.  Run  out  and  play,  boys,  and 
don't  worry  about  the  meals." 

The  two  boys,  known  in  the  family  as  "  the 
scamps,"  quickly  took  their  departure,  and  Katie 
began  to  talk  in  her  most  grown-up  manner  to  Helen. 
Katie  was  a  demure  little  damsel,  she  was  fond  of 
using  long  words,  and  thought  no  one  in  the  world 
like  Helen,  whom  she  copied  in  all  particulars. 

"  Poll  is  too  ambitious,  and  she's  sure  to  fail,"  she 
began.  But  Helen  shut  her  up. 

"  If  Polly  does  fail,  you'll  be  dreadfully  sorry,  I'm 
sure,  Katie,"  she  said.  "I  know  I  shall  be  sorry. 
It  will  make  me  quite  unhappy,  for  I  never  saw  any 
one  take  more  pains  about  a  thing  than  Polly  has 
taken  over  her  housekeeping.  Yes,  it  will  be  very 
sad  if  Polly  fails  ;  but  I  don't  think  she  will,  for  she 
is  really  a  most  clever  girl.  Now,  Katie,  will  you 
read  your  English  History  lesson  aloud  ?  " 

Katie  felt  crushed.  In  her  heart  of  hearts  she 
thought  even  her  beloved  Helen  a  little  too  lenient. 

"  Never  mind,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  won't  Dolly 
and  Mabel  have  a  fine  gossip  with  me  presently  over 
the  breakfast  Polly  gave  us  this  morning." 


ft*  fc)LL*. 

Meanwhile  the  anxious,  small  housekeeper  Was 
making  her  way  as  rapidly  as  possible  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  village. 

"  We  haven't  a  minute  to  lose,  Maggie,"  she  said, 
as  they  trudged  along.  "  Can  you  remember  the  list 
of  things  I  gave  you  to  buy  at  the  grocery  shop  ? 
It  is  such  a  pity  you  can't  read,  Maggie,  for  if  you 
could  I'd  have  written  them  down  for  you." 

"  It  wasn't  the  Board's  fault,  nor  my  mother's," 
answered  Maggie,  glibly.  "  It  was  all  on  account  of 
my  brain  being  made  to  fit  on  the  top  of  a  sixpence. 
Yes,  Miss,  I  remembers  the  list,  and  I'll  go  to  Wat 
son's  and  the  butcher's  while  you  runs  on  to  the 
farm  for  the  butter  and  eggs." 

"You  have  got  to  get  ten  things,"  proceeded 
Polly;  "don't  forget,  ten  things  at  the  grocer*s. 
You  had  better  say  the  list  over  to  me." 

"  All  right,  Miss  Polly,  ten ;  I  can  tick  one  off  on 
each  finger:  white  sugar,  coffee,  rice,  marmalade, 
strawberry  jam,  apricot  jam,  mustard,  pickles — is 
they  mixed  or  plain,  Miss  Polly  ? — raisins,  currants. 
There,  Miss,  I  has  them  all  as  pat  as  possible." 

"  Well,  stop  a  minute,"  said  Polly.  "  I'm  going 
to  unlock  my  box  now.  Hold  it  for  me,  Maggie, 
while  I  open  it.  Here,  I'm  going  to  take  half-a- 
sovereign  out  of  the  grocery  division.  You  must 
take  this  half-sovereign  to  Watson's,  and  pay  for  the 
things.  I  have  not  an  idea  how  much  they  cost,  but 
I  expect  you'll  have  a  good  lot  of  change  to  give  me 
After  that,  you  are  to  go  on  to  the  butcher's  and  buy 
four  pounds  of  beef-steak.  Here  is  another  half- 
sovereign  that  you  will  have  to  pay  the  butcher  out 
of.  Be  sure  you  don't  mix  the  change,  Maggie. 
Pop  the  butcher's  change  into  one  pocket,  and  the 
grocer's  change  into  another.  Now,  do  you  know 
•what  we  are  going  to  have  for  dinner  ?  " 


A— WAS  AN  APPLE  PIE.  (ft 

**  No,  Miss,  I'm  sure  I  don't.  I  expect  it'L  sound 
big  to  begin  with,  and  end  small,  same  as  the  break 
fast  did.  Why,  Miss  Polly,  you  didn't  think  cold 
bacon  good  enough  for  the  servants,  arvd  yet  you  set 
it  down,  in  the  end  afore  your  pa." 

Polly  looked  hard  at  Maggie.  She  suddenly  be 
gan  to  think  her  not  at  all  a  nice  girl. 

"  I  was  met  by  adversity,"  she  said.  "  It  is  wrong 
of  you  to  speak  to  me  in  that  tone,  Maggie ;  Mrs. 
Power  behaved  very  badly,  and  I  could  not  help 
myself ;  but  she  need  not  think  she  is  going  to  beat 
me,  and  whatever  I  suffer,  I  scorn  to  complain. 
To-night,  after  every  one  is  in  bed,  I  am  going  to 
make  lots  of  pies  and  tarts,  and  cakes,  and  cheese 
cakes.  You  will  have  to  help  me ;  but  we  will  talk 
of  that  by  and  by.  Now,  I  want  to  speak  about  the 
dinner.  It  must  be  simple  to-day.  We  will  have 
a  beef-steak  pudding  and  pancakes.  Do  you  know 
how  to  toss  pancakes,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  lor',  Miss,"  said  Maggie,  "  I  did  always  love 
to  see  mother  at  it.  She  used  to  toss  'em  real  beau 
tiful,  and  I'm  sure  I  could  too.  That's  a  very  nice 
dinner,  Miss,  'olesome  and  good,  and  you'll  let  me 
toss  the  pancakes,  won't  you,  Miss  Polly  ?  " 

"  Well,  you  may  try,  Maggie.  But  here  we  are 
at  the  village.  Now,  please,  go  as  quickly  as  pos 
sible  to  Watson's,  and  the  butcher's,  and  meet  me 
at  this  stile  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  Be  very  care 
ful  of  the  change,  Maggie,  and  be  sure  you  put  the 
butcher's  in  one  pocket  and  the  grocer's  in  another. 
Don't  mix  them — everything  depends  on  your  not 
mixing  them,  Maggie." 

The  two  girls  parted,  each  going  quickly  in  op 
posite  directions.  Polly  had  a  successful  time  at 
the  farm,  and  when  she  once  again  reached  the 
turn-stile  her  basket  contained  two  dozen  new-lai$ 


68  POLLY. 

eggs,  two  or  three  pounds  of  delicious  fresh  Gutter, 
and  a  small  jug  of  cream.  The  farmer's  wife,  Mrs. 
White,  had  been  very  pleased  to  see  her,  and  had 
complimented  her  on  her  discernment  in  choosing 
the  butter  and  eggs.  Her  spirits  were  now  once 
again  excellent,  and  she  began  to  forget  the  sore  in 
jury  Mrs.  Power  had  done  her  by  locking  the  store 
room  door. 

"It's  all  lovely,"  she  said  to  herself;  "it's  all 
turning  out  as  pleasant  as  possible.  The  breakfast 
was  nothing,  they'd  have  forgotten  the  best  break 
fast  by  now,  and  they'll  have  such  a  nice  dinner.  I 
can  easily  make  a  fruit  tart  for  father,  as  well  as  the 
pancakes,  and  won't  he  enjoy  Mrs.  White's  nice 
cream  ?  It  was  very  good  of  her  to  give  it  to  me ; 
and  it  was  very  cheap,  too — only  eighteenpence. 
But,  dear  me,  dear  me,  how  I  wish  Maggie  would 
come  1 " 

There  was  no  sign,  however,  of  any  stout,  un 
wieldy  young  person  walking  down  the  narrow  path 
which  led  to  the  stile.  Strain  her  eyes  as  she  would, 
Polly  could  not  see  any  sign  of  Maggie  approach 
ing.  She  waited  for  another  five  minutes,  and  then 
decided  to  go  home  without  her. 

"  For  she  may  have  gone  round  by  the  road,"  she 
said  to  herself,  "  although  it  was  very  naughty  of 
her  if  she  did  so,  for  I  told  her  to  be  sure  to  meet  me 
at  the  turnstile.  Still  I  can't  wait  for  her  any 
longer,  for  I  must  pick  the  fruit  for  my  tart,  and  I 
ought  to  see  that  Alice  is  doing  what  I  told  her 
about  the  new  curtains." 

Off  trotted  Polly  with  her  heavy  basket  once 
again  across  the  fields.  It  was  a  glorious  Sep 
tember  day,  and  the  soft  air  fanned  her  cheeks  and 
raised  her  already  excited  spirits.  She  felt  more 
Cheerful  than  she  had  done  since  her  mother  died, 


A— WAS  AN  APPLE  PIE.  69 

and  many  brilliant  visions  of  hope  filled  her  ambi 
tious  little  head.  Yes,  father  would  see  that  he  was 
right  in  trusting  her;  Nell  would  discover  that 
there  was  no  one  so  clever  as  Polly;  Mrs.  Power 
would  cease  to  defy  her;  Alice  would  obey  her 
cheerfully ;  in  short,  she  would  be  the  mainstay  and 
prop  of  her  family. 

On  her  way  through  the  kitchen-garden  Polly 
picked  up  a  number  of  fallen  apples,  and  then  she 
went  quickly  into  the  house,  to  be  met  on  the  thresh 
old  by  Firefly. 

tt  Oh,  Poll  Parrot,  may  I  come  down  with  you  to 
the  kitchen  ?  I'd  love  to  see  you  getting  the  dinner 
ready,  and  I  could  help,  indeed  I  could.  The  others 
are  all  so  cross ;  that  is,  all  except  Nell.  Katie  is  in 
a  temper,  and  so  are  Dolly  and  Mabel ;  but  I  stood 
up  for  you,  Poll  Parrot,  for  I  said  you  didn't  mean 
to  give  us  the  very  nastiest  breakfast  in  the  world. 
I  said  it  was  just  because  you  weren't  experienced 
enough  to  know  any  better — that's  what  I  said, 
Poll." 

"Well,  you  made  a  great  mistake  then,"  said 
Polly.  "  Not  experienced,  indeed !  as  if  I  didn't 
know  what  a  good  breakfast  was  like.  I  had  a  mis 
fortune;  a  dark  deed  was  done,  and  I  was  the 
victim,  but  I  scorn  to  complain,  I  let  you  all  think 
as  you  like.  No,  you  can't  come  to  the  kitchen  with 
me,  Firefly ;  it  isn't  a  fit  place  for  children.  Run 
away  now,  do" 

Poor  Fly's  small  face  grew  longing  and  pathetic, 
but  Polly  was  obdurate. 

"  I  can't  have  children  about,"  she  said  to  herself, 
and  soon  she  was  busy  peeling  her  apples  and  pre 
paring  her  crust  for  the  pie.  She  succeeded  fairly 
well,  although  the  water  with  which  she  mixed  her 
dough  would  run  all  over  the  board,  and  her  nice 


70  POLLY. 

fresh  butter  stuck  in  the  most  provoking  way  to  the 
rolling-pin.  Still,  the  pie  was  made,  after  a  fashion, 
and  Polly  felt  very  happy,  as  she  amused  herself 
cutting  out  little  ornamental  leaves  from  what  re 
mained  of  her  pastry  to  decorate  it.  It  was  a  good- 
sized  tart,  and  when  she  had  crowned  it  with  a 
wreath  of  laurel  leaves  she  thought  she  had  never 
seen  anything  so  handsome  and  appetizing.  Alas, 
however,  for  poor  Polly,  the  making  of  this  pie  was 
her  one  and  only  triumph. 

The  morning  had  gone  very  fast,  while  she  was 
walking  to  the  village  securing  her  purchases,  and 
coming  home  again.  She  was  startled  when  she 
looked  at  the  kitchen  clock  to  find  that  it  pointed 
to  a  quarter  past  twelve.  At  the  same  time  she  dis 
covered  that  the  kitchen  fire  was  nearly  out,  and 
that  the  oven  was  cold.  Father  always  liked  the 
early  dinner  to  be  on  the  table  sharp  at  one  o'clock  ; 
it  would  never,  never  do  for  Polly's  first  dinner  to 
be  late.  She  must  not  wait  any  longer  for  that 
naughty  Maggie ;  she  must  put  coals  on  the  fire  her 
self,  and  wash  the  potatoes,  and  set  them  on  to  boil. 

This  was  scarcely  the  work  of  an  ordinary  lady 
like  housekeeper ;  but  Polly  tried  to  fancy  she  was  in 
Canada,  or  in  even  one  of  the  less  civilized  settle 
ments,  where  ladies  put  their  hands  to  anything,  and 
were  all  the  better  for  it. 

She  had  a  great  hunt  to  find  the  potatoes,  and 
when  she  had  washed  them — which  it  must  be  owned 
she  did  not  do  at  all  well — she  had  still  greater  diffi 
culty  in  selecting  a  pot  which  would  hold  them.  She 
found  one  at  last,  and  with  some  difficulty  placed  it 
on  the  kitchen-range.  She  had  built  up  her  fire  with 
some  skill,  but  was  dismayed  to  find  that,  try  as  she 
would,  she  could  get  no  heat  into  the  oven.  The  fact 
was,  she  had  not  the  least  idea  how  to  direct  thq 

r 


A— WAS  AN  APPLE  PIE.  71 

draught  in  the  right  direction ;  and  although  the  fire 
burned  fiercely,  and  the  potatoes  soon  began  to  bubble 
and  smoke,  the  oven,  which  was  to  cook  poor  Polly's 
tart,  remained  cold  and  irresponsive. 

Well,  cold  as  it  was,  she  would  put  her  pie  in,  for 
time  was  flying  as  surely  it  had  never  flown  before, 
and  it  was  dreadful  to  think  that  there  would  be 
nothing  at  all  for  dinner  but  potatoes. 

Oh,  why  did  not  that  wicked  Maggie  come  !  Real 
ly  Polly  did  not  know  that  any  one  could  be  quite  so 
depraved  and  heartless  as  Maggie  was  turning  out. 
She  danced  about  the  kitchen  in  her  impatience, 
and  began  to  think  she  understood  something  of  the 
wickedness  of  those  cities  described  in  the  Bible, 
which  were  destroyed  by  fire  on  account  of  their  sins, 
and  also  of  the  state  of  the  world  before  the  Flood 
came. 

"  They  were  all  like  Maggie,"  she  said  to  herself. 
"  I  really  never  heard  of  any  one  before  who  was 
quite  so  hopelessly  bad  as  Maggie." 

The  kitchen  clock  pointed  to  the  half  hour,  and 
even  to  twenty  minutes  to  one.  It  was  hopeless  to 
think  of  pancakes  now — equally  hopeless  to  consider 
the  possibilities  of  a  beefsteak  pudding.  They  would 
be  very  lucky  if  they  had  steak  hi  any  form.  Still, 
if  Maggie  came  at  once  that  might  be  managed,  and 
nice  potatoes,  beefsteak,  apple-tart  and  cream  would 
be  better  than  no  dinner  at  all. 

Just  at  this  moment,  when  Polly's  feelings  were 
almost  reduced  to  despair,  she  was  startled  by  a  queer 
sound,  which  gradually  came  nearer  and  nearer.  It 
was  the  sound  of  some  one  sobbing,  and  not  only 
sobbing,  but  crying  aloud  with  great  violence.  The 
kitchen  door  was  suddenly  burst  open,  and  dishev 
eled,  tear-stained,  red-faced  Maggie  rushed  in,  and 
threw  herself  on  her  knees  at  Polly's  feet. 


72  POLLY. 

« I  has  gone  and  done  it,  Miss  Polly,"  she  ex 
claimed.  "  I  was  distraught-like,  and  my  poor  little 
bit  of  a  brain  seemed  to  give  way  all  of  a  sudden. 
Mother's  in  a  heap  of  trouble,  Miss  Polly.  I  went 
round  to  see  her,  for  it  was  quite  a  short  cut  to  Wat 
son's  round  by  mother's,  and  mother  she  were  in  an 
awful  fixing.  She  hadn't  nothing  for  the  rent,  Miss 
Polly,  'cause  the  fruit  was  blighted  this  year ;  and  the 
landlord  wouldn't  give  her  no  more  grace,  'cause  his 
head  is  big  and  his  heart  is  small,  same  as  'tis  tother 
way  with  me,  Miss  Polly,  and  the  bailiffs  was  going 
to  seize  mother's  little  bits  of  furniture,  and  mother 
she  was  most  wild.  So  my  head  it  seemed  to  go, 
Miss  Polly,  and  I  clutched  hold  of  the  half-sovereign 
in  the  butcher's  pocket,  and  the  half-sovereign  in 
the  grocer's  pocket,  and  I  said  to  mother,  'Miss 
Polly'll  give  'em  to  you, '  cause  it's  a  big  heart  as 
Miss  Polly  has  got.  They  was  meant  for  the  family 
dinner,  but  what's  dinner  compared  to  your  feelings. 
So  mother  she  borrowed  of  the  money,  Miss  Polly, 
and  I  hasn't  brought  home  nothink ;  I  hasn't  truly, 
Miss." 

Maggie's  narrative  was  interspersed  with  very 
loud  sobs,  and  fierce  catches  of  her  breath,  and  her 
small  eyes  were  almost  sunken  out  of  sight. 

"  Oh,  I  know  you're  mad  with  me,"  she  said,  in 
conclusion.  "But  what's  dinner  compared  with 
mother's  feelings.  Oh,  Miss  Polly,  don't  look  at  me 
like  that !  " 

"  Get  up,"  said  Polly,  severely.  "You  are  just  like 
the  people  before  the  Flood  ;  I  understand  about 
them  at  last.  I  cannot  speak  to  you  now,  for  we 
have  not  a  moment  to  lose.  Can  you  make  the  oven 
hot  ?  There  are  only  potatoes  for  dinner,  unless  the 
apple  tart  can  be  got  ready  in  time." 

"  Oh,  lor' !  Miss  Polly,  I'll  soon  set  that  going — 


POTATOES-MINUS  POINT.  73 

why,  you  has  the  wrong  flue  out,  Miss.  See  now, 
the  heat's  going  round  it  lovely.  Oh,  what  an  elegant 
pie  you  has  turned  out,  Miss  Polly !  Why,  it's  quite 
wonderful !  You  has  a  gift  in  the  cookery  line,  Miss. 
Oh,  darling  Miss  Polly,  don't  you  be  a  naming  of  me 
after  them  Flooders ;  it's  awful  to  think  I'm  like  one 
of  they.  It's  all  on  account  of  mother,  Miss  Polly. 
It  would  have  gone  to  your  heart,  Miss  Polly,  if  you 
seen  mother  a  looking  at  the  eight- day  clock  and 
thinking  of  parting  from  it.  Her  tears  made  channels 
on  her  cheeks,  Miss  Polly,  and  it  was  'eart-piercing 
to  view  her.  Oh,  do  take  back  them  words,  Miss 
Polly.  Don't  say  as  I'm  a  Flooder." 

Polly  certainly  had  a  soft  heart,  and  although 
nothing  could  have  mortified  her  more  than  the 
present  state  of  affairs,  she  made  up  her  mind  to 
screen  Maggie,  and  to  be  as  little  severe  to  her  as 
she  could. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

POTATOES MINUS  POINT. 

DR.  MAYBBIGHT  had  reason  again  to  congratulate 
himself  when  he  sat  down  to  a  humble  dinner  of 
boiled  potatoes. 

"  If  this  regimen  continues  for  a  week,"  he  said, 
under  his  breath,  "  we  must  really  resort  to  tonics. 
I  perceive  I  did  Polly  a  gross  injustice.  She  does 
not  mean  to  make  us  ill  with  rich  living." 

The  doctor  ate  his  potatoes  with  extreme  cheer 
fulness,  remarking  as  he  did  so  on  their  nutritive 
qualities,  and  explaining  to  his  discontented  family 
how  many  people  lived  on  these  excellent  roots. 


74  POLLY. 

«*  The  only  thing  we  want,"  he  said,  "  is  a  red  her- 
ving ;  we  might  then  have  that  most  celebrated  of 
all  Irish  dishes — '  potatoes  and  point.' " 

«  Do  tell  us  what  that  is,  father,"  said  Helen,  who 
was  anxious  to  draw  the  direful  glances  of  the  rest 
of  the  family  from  poor  Polly. 

" '  Potatoes  and  point,' "  said  Dr.  Maybright,  rais 
ing  his  head  for  a  moment,  while  a  droll  glance  filled 
.iis  eyes,  "  is  a  simple  but  economical  form  of  diet. 
The  herring  is  hung  by  a  string  over  the  center  of 
the  board,  and  each  person  before  he  eats  his  potato 
points  it  at  the  herring ;  by  so  doing  a  subtle  flavor 
of  herring  is  supposed  to  be  imparted  to  the  potato. 
The  herring  lasts  for  some  time,  so  the  diet  is  really 
a  cheap  one.  Polly,  dear,  what  is  the  matter  ?  I 
never  saw  these  excellent  apples  of  the  earth  better 
cooked." 

Polly  was  silent;  her  blushing  cheeks  alone 
betrayed  her.  She  was  determined  to  make  a  good 
meal,  and  was  sustained  by  the  consciousness  that 
she  had  not  betrayed  Maggie,  and  the  hope  that  the 
apple-tart  would  prove  excellent. 

It  certainly  was  a  noble  apple-pie,  and  the  faces 
of  the  children  quite  cheered  up  at  the  sight  of  it. 
They  were  very  hungry,  and  were  not  particular  as  to 
the  quality  of  the  crust.  Mrs.  White's  cream,  too, 
was  delicious,  so  the  second  part  of  Polly's  first 
dinner  quite  turned  out  a  success. 

After  the  meal  had  come  to  an  end,  Helen  called 
her  second  sister  aside. 

"  Polly,"  she  said,  "  I  think  we  ought  to  speak  to 
father  now  about  the  strangers  coming.  Time  is 
going  on,  and  if  they  come  we  ought  to  begin  to 
prepare  for  them,  and  the  more  I  think  of  it  the  more 
sure  I  am  that  they  ought  to  come." 

«*  All  right,''  saitf  Polly.    "  Only,  is  this  a  good 


POTATOES-MINUS  POINT.  75 

time  to  speak  to  father  ?  For  I  am  quite  sure  he 
must  be  vexed  with  me." 

"  You  must  not  think  so,  Polly,"  said  Helen,  kissing 
her.  "  Father  has  given  you  a  week  to  try  to  do 
your  best  in,  and  he  won't  say  anything  one  way  or 
another  until  the  time  is  up.  Come  into  his  study 
now,  for  I  know  he  is  there,  and  we  really  ought  to 
speak  to  him." 

Polly's  face  was  still  flushed,  but  the  Doctor, 
who  had  absolutely  forgotten  the  simplicity  of  his 
late  meal,  received  both  the  girls  with  equal  affec 
tion. 

"  Well,  my  loves,"  he  said,  "  can  I  do  anything 
for  you  ?  I  am  going  for  a  pleasant  drive  into  the 
country  this  afternoon.  Would  you  both  like  to 
come  ?  " 

"  I  should  very  much,"  said  Helen ;  but  Polly 
with  a  somewhat  important  little  sigh,  remarked 
that  household  matters  would  keep  her  at  home. 

*  Well,  my  dear,  you  must  please  yourself.  But 
can  L  do  anything  for  either  of  you  now  ?  you  both 
look  full  of  business." 

"  We  are,  father,"  said  Pollyr  who  was  always  the 
impetuous  one.  "  We  want  to  know  if  Paul  and 
Virginia  may  come." 

"  My  dear,  this  is  the  second  time  you  have  spoken 
to  me  of  those  deserted  orphans.  I  don't  understand 
you." 

"  It  is  this,  father,"  explained  Helen.  "  We  think 
the  children  from  Australia — the  children  mother  was 
arranging  about — might  come  here  still.  We  mean 
that  Po/iy  and  I  would  like  them  to  come,  and  that 
we  would  do  our  best  for  them.  We  think,  Polly 
and  I  do,  that  mother,  even  though  she  is  not  here, 
would  still  like  the  strangers  to  come." 

«*  Sit  down,  Helen,"  said  the  Doctor ;  the  harassed 


76  POLLY. 

look  had  once  again  come  across  his  face,  anfl  even 
Polly  noticed  the  dimness  in  his  eyes. 

"  You  must  not  undertake  too  much,  you  two,"  he 
said.  "  You  are  only  children.  You  are  at  an  age  to 
miss  your  mother  at  every  turn.  We  had  arranged  to 
have  a  boy  and  girl  from  Australia  to  live  here,  but 
when  your  mother — your  mother  was  taken — I  gave 
up  the  idea.  It  was  too  late  to  stop  their  coming 
to  England,  but  I  think  I  can  provide  a  temporary 
home  for  them  when  they  get  to  London.  You  need 
not  trouble  your  head  about  the  strange  children, 
Nell." 

"It  is  not  that,"  said  Polly.  "We  don't  know 
them  yet,  so  of  course  we  don't  love  them,  but  we 
wish  them  to  come  here,  because  we  wish  for  their 
money.  It  will  be  eight  pounds  a  week ;  just  what 
you  spend  on  the  house,  you  know,  father." 

"  What  a  little  economist ! "  said  Dr.  May  bright, 
stretching  out  his  hand  and  drawing  Polly  to  him. 
"  Yes,  I  was  to  receive  £400  a  year  for  the  children, 
and  it  would  have  been  a  help,  certainly  it  would  have 
been  a  help  by-and-by.  Still,  my  dear  girls,  I  don't 
see  how  it  is  to  be  managed." 

**  But  really,  father,  we  are  so  many  that  two  more 
make  very  little  difference,"  explained  Helen.  "  Polly 
and  I  are  going  to  try  hard  to  be  steady  and  good, 
and  we  think  it  would  certainly  please  mother  if  you 
let  the  strangers  come  here,  and  we  tried  to  make, 
them  happy.  If  you  would  meet  them,  father,  and 
bring  them  here  just  at  first,  we  might  see  how  we 
got  on." 

"  I  might,"  said  the  Doctor  in  a  meditative  voice, 
"  and  £400  is  a  good  deal  of  money.  It  is  not  easily 
earned,  and  with  a  large  family  it  is  always  wanted. 
That's  what  your  mother  said,  and  she  was  very  wise. 
Still,  still,  children,  I  keep  forgetting  how  old  you  are. 


POTATOES— MINUS  POINT.  77 

In  reality  you  are,  neither  of  you,  grown  up ;  in  reality 
Polly  is  quite  a  child,  and  you,  my  wise  little  Nell, 
are  very  little  more.  I  have  offended  your  aunt,  Mrs. 
Cameron,  as  it  is,  and  what  will  she  say  if  I  yield  to 
you  on  this  point  ?  Still,  still — 

"  Oh,  father,  don't  mind  what  that  tiresome  Aunt 
Maria  says  or  thinks  on  any  subject,"  said  Polly. 
"  Why  should  we  mind  her,  she  wasn't  mother's  real 
sister.  We  scarcely  know  her  at  all,  and  she  scarcely 
knows  us.  We  don't  like  her,  and  we  are  sure  she 
doesn't  like  us.  Why  should  she  spoil  our  lives,  and 
prevent  our  helping  you  ?  For  it  would  help  you 
to  have  the  strangers  here,  wouldn't  it,  father  ?  " 

«  By-and-by  it  would,"  answered  the  Doctor.  "  By 
and-by  it  would  help  me  much." 

Again  the  troubled  expression  came  to  his  face, 
and  the  dimness  was  perceptible  in  his  eyes. 

"  You  will  let  us  try  it,  father,"  said  Helen.  "  We 
can  but  fail ;  girls  as  young  as  us  have  done  as  much 
before.  I  am  sure  girls  as  young  as  we  are  have 
done  harder  things  before,  so  why  should  not  we 
try?" 

"  I  am  a  foolish  old  man,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  I 
suppose  I  shall  be  blamed  for  this,  not  that  it  greatly 
matters.  Well,  children,  let  it  be  as  you  wish.  I  will 
go  and  meet  the  boy  and  girl  in  London,  and  bring 
them  to  the  Hollow.  We  can  have  them  for  a  month, 
and  if  we  fail,  children,"  added  the  Doctor,  a  twinkle 
of  amusement  overspreading  his  face,  "  we  won't  tell 
any  one  but  ourselves.  It  is  quite  possible  that  in  the 
future  we  shall  be  comparatively  poor  if  we  cannot 
manage  to  make  that  boy  and  girl  from  Australia 
comfortable  and  happy  ;  but  Polly  there  has  taught 
us  how  to  economize,  for  we  can  always  fall  back 
on  potatoes  and  point." 

"  Oh — oh — oh,  *o,ther,"  came  from  Polly's  lips. 


78  POLLY. 

"  That  is  unkind,  dear  father,"  said  Helen. 

But  they  both  hung  about  his  neck  and  kissed 
him,  and  when  Dr.  May  bright  drove  away  that  after 
noon  on  his  usual  round  of  visits,  his  heart  felt  com 
paratively  light,  and  he  owned  to  himself  that  those 
girls  of  his,  with  all  their  eccentricities,  were  a  great 
comfort  to  him. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

IN    THE    ATTIC. 

THERE  is  no  saying  how  Polly's  week  of  house 
keeping  might  have  ended,  nor  how  substantial  her 
castle  in  the  air  might  have  grown,  had  not  a 
catastrophe  occurred  to  her  of  a  double  and  complex 
nature. 

The  first  day  during  which  Polly  and  Maggie, 
between  them,  catered  for  and  cooked  the  family 
meals,  produced  a  plain  diet  in  the  shape  of  cold 
bacon  for  breakfast,  and  a  dinner  of  potatoes,  minus 
"point."  But  on  the  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  and 
Thursday  of  that  week  Maggie  quite  redeemed  her 
character  of  being  a  Flooder,  and  worked  under  Polly 
with  such  goodwill  that,  as  she  herself  expressed  it, 
her  small  brains  began  to  grow.  Fortunately,  Mrs. 
Kicketts,  Maggie's  mother,  was  not  obliged  to  meet 
her  rent  every  day  of  the  week,  therefore  no  more 
of  Polly's  four  pounds  went  in  that  direction.  And 
Polly  read  Mrs.  Beaton's  Cookery-book  with  such 
assiduity,  and  Maggie  carried  out  her  directions 
with  such  implicit  zeal  and  good  faith,  that  really 
most  remarkable  meals  began  to  grace  the  Doctor's 
board.  Pastry  in  every  imaginable  form  and  guise, 
cakes  of  all  descriptions  ;  vegetables,  so  cooked  and 


IN  THE  A* TIC.  79 

eo  flavored,  that  their  original  taste  was  completely 
obliterated;  meats  cooked  in  German,  Italian,  and 
American  styles ;  all  these  things,  and  many  more, 
graced  the  board  and  speedily  vanished.  The 
children  became  decidedly  excited  about  the  meals, 
and  Polly  was  cheered  and  regarded  as  a  sort  of 
queen.  The  Doctor  sighed,  however,  and  counted 
the  days  when  Nell  and  Mrs.  Power  should  once 
more  peacefully  reign  in  Polly's  stead.  Nurse  asked 
severely  to  have  all  the  nursery  medicine  bottles 
replenished.  Firefly  looked  decidedly  pasty,  and, 
after  one  of  Polly's  richest  plum-cakes,  with  three 
tiers  of  different  colored  icings,  Bunny  was  heard 
crying  the  greater  part  of  one  night.  Still  the  little 
cook  and  housekeeper  bravely  pursued  her  career 
of  glory,  and  all  might  have  gone  well,  and  Polly 
might  have  worn  a  chastened  halo  of  well-earned 
success  round  her  brow  for  the  remainder  of  her 
natural  life,  but  for  the  catastrophe  of  which  I  am 
about  to  speak. 

Tuesday,  Wednesday,  and  Thursday  the  family 
fared  richly,  and  the  household  jogged  along  some 
how,  but  on  Friday  morning  Dr.  Maybright  sud 
denly  surprised  his  girls  by  telling  them  that 
unexpected  business  would  call  him  to  London  im 
mediately.  He  could  not  possibly  return  before 
Monday,  but  he  would  get  a  certain  Dr.  Strong  to 
see  after  his  patients,  and  would  start  for  town  by 
the  mid-day  train. 

The  Doctor's  portmanteau  was  quickly  packed, 
and  in  what  seemed  a  moment  of  time  after  the 
receipt  of  the  letter  he  had  kissed  his  family  and 
bidden  them  good-bye.  Then  her  four  younger 
sisters  and  the  boys  came  round  Polly  with  a  daring 
suggestion. 

w  t-et's  sit  up  late,  to-night,  and  have  a  real,  jolly 


SO  POLLY. 

supper,"  they  begged.  "  Let's  have  it  at  nine  o'clock, 
up  in  the  large  garret  over  the  front  of  the  house ; 
let  it  be  a  big  supper,  all  kinds  of  good  things ; 
ginger- beer  and  the  rest,  and  let's  invite  some  people 
to  come  and  eat  it  with  us.  Do,  Poll — do,  Poll 
darling." 

"But,"  said  Polly — she  was  dazzled  by  this 
glorious  prospect — "  I  haven't  got  a  great  deal  of 
money,"  she  said,  "  and  Nurse  will  be  very  angry, 
and  Helen  won't  like  it.  For  you  know,  children, 
you  two  boys  and  Firefly,  you  are  never  allowed  to 
sit  up  as  late  as  nine  o'clock." 

"  But  for  once,  Poll  Parrot,"  exclaimed  the  three 
victims ;  "  just  for  once.  We  are  sure  father  would 
not  care,  and  we  can  coax  Nell  to  consent,  and 
Nurse,  as  to  Nurse,  she  thinks  of  no  one  but  baby  ; 
we  won't  choose  the  garret  over  baby.  Do,  do,  do 
say  '  yes,'  darling  Poll." 

"  The  dearest  cook  in  all  the  world ! "  exclaimed 
Bunny,  tossing  his  cap  in  the  air. 

"  The  queen  of  cake-makers,"  said  Bob,  turning 
head  over  heels. 

"The  darlingest  princess  of  all  housekeepers," 
echoed  Firefly,  leaping  on  her  sister,  and  half-strang 
ling  her  with  a  fierce  embrace. 

"  And  we'll  all  subscribe,"  said  the  twins. 

"And  it  will  really  be  delightfully  romantic; 
something  to  remember  when  you  aren't  house 
keeper,"  concluded  Katie. 

"  I'd  like  it  awfully,"  said  Polly, "  I  don't  pretend 
that  I  wouldn't,  and  I've  just  found  such  a  recipe 
for  whipped  cream.  Do  you  know,  girls,  I  shouldn't 
be  a  bit  surprised — I  really  shouldn't — if  I  turned 
out  some  meringues  made  all  by  myself  for  supper. 
The  only  drawback  is  the  money,  for  Mrs.  White 
does  charge  a  lot  for  cream,  and  I  don't  mind  owning 


itt  THE  ATTIC.  81 

to  you  all,  now  that  you  are  nice  and  sympathetic, 
that  the  reason  you  had  only  potatoes  for  dinner  on 
Monday  that  was  because  Maggie  and  I  met  with  a 
misfortune ;  it  was  a  money  trouble,"  continued 
Polly,  with  an  important  air, "  and  of  course  children 
like  you  cannot  understand  what  money  troubles 
mean.  They  are  wearing,  very,  and  Maggie  says 
she  thinks  I'm  beginning  to  show  some  crow's  feet 
round  my  eyes  on  account  of  them.  But  never 
mind,  I'm  not  going  to  cast  the  shadows  of  money 
troubles  on  you  all,  and  this  thing  is  not  to  be  spoken 
of,  only  it  makes  me  very  short  now." 

"But  we'll  help  you,  Poll,"  said  all  the  eager 
voices.  "Let's  fetch  our  purses  and  see  what  we 
can  spare." 

In  a  twinkling  many  odd  receptacles  for  holding 
money  made  an  appearance,  and  the  children  between 
them  found  they  could  muster  the  noble  sum  of  six 
shillings.  All  this  was  handed  to  Polly,  who  said, 
after  profound  deliberation,  that  she  thought  she 
could  make  it  go  furthest  and  make  most  show  in 
the  purchase  of  cream  and  ginger -beer. 

"  I'll  scrape  the  rest  together,  somehow,"  she 
said,  in  conclusion,  "  and  Maggie  will  help  me  fine. 
Maggie's  a  real  brick  now,  and  her  brains  are  growing 
beautifully." 

But  there  was  another  point  to  be  decided — Who 
were  to  be  invited  to  partake  of  the  supper,  and 
was  Nurse  to  be  told,  and  was  Helen  to  be  con 
sulted  ? 

Certainly  Polly  would  not  have  ventured  to  carry 
out  so  daring  a  scheme  without  Helen's  consent 
and  co-operation,  if  it  had  not  happened  that  she 
was  away  for  the  day.  She  had  taken  the  opportu 
nity  to  drive  into  the  nearest  town  five  miles  away 
with  her  father,  and  had  arranged  to  spend  the  day 


82  POLLY. 

there,  purchasing  several  necessary  things,  and 
calling  on  one  or  two  friends. 

"  And  it  will  be  much  too  late  to  tell  Nell  when 
she  comes  back,"  voted  all  the  children.  "  If  she 
makes  a  fuss  then,  and  refuses  to  join,  she  will 
spoil  everything.  We  are  bound  too,  to  obey  Helen, 
so  we  had  much  better  not  give  her  the  chance  of 
saying  'no.'  Let  us  pretend  to  go  to  bed  at  our 
usual  hour,  and  say  nothing  to  either  Nurse  or 
Helen.  We  can  tell  them  to-morrow  if  we  like, 
and  they  can  only  scold  us.  Yes,  that  is  the  only 
thing  to  do,  for  it  would  never,  never  do  to  have 
such  a  jolly  plan  spoilt." 

A  unanimous  vote  was  therefore  carried  that  the 
supper  in  the  garret  was  to  be  absolutely  secret  and 
confidential,  and,  naughty  as  this  plan  of  carrying 
out  their  pleasure  was,  it  must  be  owned  that  it 
largely  enhanced  the  fun.  The  next  point  to  con 
sider  was,  who  were  to  be  the  invited  guests  ?  There 
were  no  boys  and  girls  of  the  children's  own  class  in 
life  within  an  easy  distance. 

"Therefore  there  is  no  one  to  ask,'*  exclaimed 
Katie,  in  her  shortest  and  most  objectionable 
manner. 

But  here  Firefly  electrified  her  family  by  quoting 
Scripture. 

"  When  thou  makest  a  supper,"  she  began. 

All  the  others  rose  in  a  body  and  fell  upon  her. 

But  she  had  started  a  happy  idea,  and  in  conse 
quence,  Mrs.  Ricketts'  youngest  son  and  daughter, 
and  the  three  very  naughty  and  disreputable  sons  of 
Mrs.  Jones,  the  laundress,  were  invited  to  partake  of 
the  coming  feast. 

The  rest  of  the  day  passed  to  all  appearance  very 
soberly.  Helen  was  away.  The  Doctor's  carriage 
neither  came  nor  went;  the  Doctor  himself,  with 


IN  THE  ATTIC.  83 

his  kindly  voice,  and  his  somewhat  brusque,  deter- 
mined  manner,  awoke  no  echoes  in  the  old  house. 
Nurse  was  far  away  in  the  nursery  wing,  with  the 
pretty,  brown-eyed  baby  and  the  children ;  all  the 
girls  and  the  little  boys  were  remarkably  good. 

To  those  who  are  well  acquainted  with  the  habits 
and  ways  of  young  folks,  too  much  goodness  is 
generally  a  suspicious  circumstance.  There  is  a 
demure  look,  there  is  an  instant  obedience,  there  is 
an  absence  of  fretfulness,  and  an  abnormal,  although 
subdued,  cheerfulness,  which  arouses  the  watchful 
gaze  of  the  knowing  amongst  mothers,  governesses, 
and  nurses. 

Had  Nurse  been  at  dinner  that  day  she  might 
have  been  warned  of  coming  events  by  Bunny's  ex 
cellent  behavior ;  by  Bob's  rigid  refusal  to  partake 
twice  of  an  unwholesome  compound,  which  went  by 
the  name  of  iced  pudding ;  by  Firefly's  anxiety  to 
be  all  that  a  good  and  proper  little  girl  should  be. 
But  Nurse,  of  course,  had  nothing  to  say  to  the 
family  dinner.  Helen  was  away,  the  Doctor  was 
nearing  the  metropolis,  and  the  little  boys'  daily 
governess  was  not  dining  with  the  family. 

These  good  children  had  no  one  to  suspect  them, 
and  all  went  smoothly  ;  in  short,  the  wheels  of  the 
house  machinery  never  seemed  more  admirably 
oiled. 

True,  had  any  one  listened  very  closely  there  might 
have  been  heard  the  stealthy  sound  of  shoeless  feet 
ascending  the  rickety  step-ladder  which  led  to  the 
large  front  garret.  Shoeless  feet  going  up  and  down 
many,  many  times.  Trays,  too,  of  precious  crockery 
were  carried  up,  baskets  piled  with  evergreens  and 
flowers  were  conveyed  thither,  the  linen  cupboard 
was  ruthlessly  rifled  for  snowy  tablecloths  and  table- 
napkins  of  all  descriptions.  Then  later  ill  the  day  a 


84  POLLY. 

certain  savory  smell  might  have  heen  perceived  by 
any  very  suspicious  person  just  along  this  special 
passage  and  up  that  dusty  old  ladder.  For  hot  bread 
and  hot  pastry  and  hot  cakes  were  being  conveyed 
to  the  attic,  and  the  sober  twins  themselves  fetched 
the  cream  from  the  farm,  and  the  ginger-beer  from 
the  grocer's. 

No  one  was  about,  however,  to  suspect,  or  to  tell 
tales  if  they  did  suspect. 

Helen  came  home  about  seven  o'clock,  rather  tired, 
and  very  much  interested  in  her  purchases,  to  find  a 
cosy  tea  awaiting  her,  and  Polly  anxious  to  serve 
her.  The  twin  girls  were  supposed  to  be  learning 
their  lessons  in  the  school-room,  Katie  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen,  and  Helen  remarked  casually  that  she 
supposed  the  young  ones  had  gone  to  bed. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Polly,  hi  her  quickest  manner. 

She  turned  her  back  as  she  spoke,  and  the  blush 
which  mantled  her  brown  face  was  partly  hidden  by 
her  curly  dark  hair. 

"  I  am  very  hungry,"  said  Helen.  "  Really,  Polly, 
you  are  turning  out  an  excellent  housekeeper — what 
a  nice  tea  you  have  prepared  for  me.  How  delicious 
these  hot  cakes  are !  I  never  thought,  Poll,  you 
would  make  such  a  good  cook  and  manager,  and  to 
think  of  your  giving  us  such  delicious  meals  on  so 
little  money.  But  you  are  eating  nothing  yourself, 
love,  and  how  hot  your  cheeks  are ! " 

"  Cooking  is  hot  work,  and  takes  away  the  appe 
tite,"  said  Polly. 

She  was  listening  in  agony  that  moment,  for  over 
Helen's  head  certain  stealthy  steps  were  creeping ; 
they  were  the  steps  of  children,  leaving  their  snug 
beds,  and  gliding  as  quietly  as  possible  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  savory  smells  and  the  dusty  ladder  and 
the  large  dirty,  spidery — but  oh,  how  romantic,  how 


IN  THE  ATTIC.  85 

fascinating — front  attic.  Never  before  did  Polly 
realize  how  many  creaky  boards  there  were  in  the 
house ;  oh,  surely  Helen  would  observe  those  steps ; 
but,  no,  she  cracked  her  egg  tranquilly,  and  sipped 
her  tea,  and  talked  in  her  pleasantest  way  of  Polly's 
excellent  cooking,  and  of  her  day's  adventures. 

Time  was  going  on ;  it  would  soon  be  eight  o'clock. 
Oh,  horrors,  why  would  the  Rickettses  and  Mrs. 
Jones's  three  boys  choose  the  path  through  the 
shrubbery  to  approach  the  house !  The  morning- 
room,  where  Helen  was  taking  her  tea,  looked  out 
on  the  shrubbery,  and  although  it  was  now  quite 
dark  in  the  world  of  nature,  those  dreadful  rough 
boys  would  crack  boughs,  and  stumble  and  titter  as 
they  walked.  Polly's  face  grew  hotter  and  her  hands 
colder ;  never  did  she  bless  her  sister's  rather  slow 
and  unsuspicious  nature  more  than  at  this  moment, 
for  Helen  heard  no  boughs  crack,  nor  did  the 
stealthy,  smothered  laughter,  so  distinctly  audible 
to  poor  Polly,  reach  her  ears. 

At  ten  minutes  to  eight  Helen  rose  from  the  table. 

"  I'm  going  up  to  Nurse  to  show  her  what  things 
I  have  bought  for  baby,"  she  said.  "  We  are  going 
to  short-coat  baby  next  week,  so  I  have  a  good  deal 
to  show  her,  and  I  won't  be  down  again  for  a  little 
bit." 

"  All  right,"  said  Polly,  "  I  have  plenty  to  do ; 
don't  worry  about  me  till  you  see  me,  Nell." 

She  danced  out  of  the  room,  and  in  excellent 
spirits  joined  a  large  and  boisterous  party  in  the 
front  attic.  Now,  she  assured  her  family  and  her 
guests,  all  would  go  well ;  they  were  safely  housed 
in  a  distant  and  unused  part  of  the  establishment, 
and  might  be  as  merry  and  as  noisy  as  they  pleased  ; 
no  one  would  hear  them,  no  one  would  miss  them, 
no  one  would  suspect  them. 


And  all  might  have  gone  according  to  Polly's 
gramme,  and  to  this  day  that  glorious  feast  in  tha 
attic  might  have  remained  a  secret  in  the  private 
annals  of  the  house  of  Maybright,  but  for  that  un 
toward  thing  which  I  am  about  to  tell. 

At  that  very  moment  while  the  Maybrights,  the 
Ricketteses,  and  the  Joneses  were  having  delightful 
and  perfectly  untrammeled  intercourse  with  each 
other,  a  very  fidgety  old  lady  was  approaching  the 
Hollow,  being  carefully  conducted  thither  in  a 
rickety  fly.  A  large  traveling  trunk  was  on  the 
box-seat  of  the  fly,  and  inside  were  two  or  three 
bandboxes,  a  couple  of  baskets,  a  strap  bursting 
with  railway  rugs,  cloaks,  and  umbrellas,  and  last, 
but  not  least,  a  snarling  little  toy-terrier,  who 
barked  and  whined  and  jumped  about,  and  licked 
his  mistress's  hand. 

"  Down,  Scorpion,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cameron ; 
"behave  yourself,  sir.  You  really  become  more 
vicious  every  day.  Get  in  that  corner,  and  don't 
stir  till  I  give  you  leave.  Now,  then,  driver,"  open 
ing  the  window  and  poking  her  head  out,  "  when 
are  we  getting  to  Sleepy  Hollow  ?  Oh !  never, 
never  ha 7  3  I  found  myself  in  a  more  outlandish 
place." 

"We  be  a  matter  of  two  miles  from  there, 
ma'am,"  said  the  man.  "You  set  easy,  and  keep 
yourself  quiet,  for  the  beast  won't  go  no  faster." 

ivlrs.  Cameron  subsided  again  into  the  depths  of 
the  musty  old  fly  with  a  groan. 

"  Outlandish — most  outlandish  !  "  she  remarked 
again.  "  Scorpion,  you  may  sit  in  my  lap  if  you  like 
to  behave  yourself,  sir.  Well,  well,  duty  calls  me 
into  many  queer  quarters.  Scorpion,  if  you  go  no 
snarling  and  growling  I  shall  slap  you  smartly. 
Yes,  poor  Helen;  I  never  showed  my  love  for  her 


AUNT  MARIA.  87 

more  than  when  I  undertook  this  journey  :  never, 
never.  Oh  !  how  desolate  that  great  moor  does 
look  ;  I  trust  there  are  no  robbers  about.  It's  per 
fectly  awful  to  be  in  a  solitary  cab,  with  anything 
but  a  civil  driver,  alone  on  these  great  moors. 
Well,  well,  how  could  Helen  marry  a  man  like  Dr. 
May  bright,  and  come  to  live  here  ?  He  must  be  the 
oddest  person,  to  judge  from  the  letter  he  wrote  me. 
I  saw  at  once  there  was  nothing  for  me  but  to  make 
the  stupendous  effort  of  coming  to  see  after  things 
myself.  Poor  dear  Helen !  she  was  a  good  creature, 
very  handsome,  quite  thrown  away  upon  that 
doctor.  I  was  fond  of  her  ;  she  was  like  a  child  to 
me  long  ago.  It  is  my  duty  to  do  what  I  can  for 
her  orphans.  Now,  Scorpion,  what  is  the  matter  ? 
You  are  quite  one  of  the  most  vicious  little  dogs  I 
have  ever  met.  Oh,  do  be  quiet,  sir." 

But  at  that  moment  the  fly  drew  up  with  a  jolt. 
The  driver  deliberately  descended  from  his  seat,  and 
opened  the  door,  whereupon  Scorpion,  with  a  snarl 
and  bound,  disappeared  into  the  darkness. 

"  He's  after  a  cat,"  remarked  the  man,  laconically. 
"  This  be  the  Hollow,  ma'am,  if  you'll  have  the  good 
ness  to  get  out." 

"  Sleepy  Hollow,"  remarked  Mrs.  Cameron  to  her 
self,  as  she  steadily  descended.  "  Truly  I  should 
think  so ;  but  I  am  much  mistaken  if  I  don't  wake 
it  up." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

AUNT  MARIA. 

"  EF  you  please,  Miss  Helen,"  said  Alice,  the  neat 
housemaid,  putting  in  her  head  at  the  nursery  door, 
"  there's  a  lady  downstairs,  and  a  heap  of  luggage, 


88  POLLY. 

and  the  nastiest  little  dog  I  ever  saw.  He  has 
almost  killed  the  Persian  kitten,  Miss,  and  he  is 
snarling  and  snapping  at  every  one.  See,  he  took 
this  bit  out  of  my  apron,  Miss.  The  old  lady  says 
as  her  name  is  Mrs.  Cameron,  and  she  has  come  to 
stay ;  and  she'd  be  glad  if  you'd  go  down  to  her  im 
mediately,  Miss  Helen." 

"  Aunt  Maria  !  "  said  Helen,  in  an  aghast  voice. 
«  Aunt  Maria  absolutely  come — and  father  away  ! 
Nursie,  I  must  fly  down — you  will  understand  about 
those  flannels.  Oh  !  I  am  sorry  Aunt  Maria  has 
come.  What  will  Polly  say  ?  " 

Helen  felt  a  curious  sinking  at  her  heart  as  she 
descended  the  stairs ;  but  she  was  a  very  polite  and 
well-mannered  girl,  and  when  she  went  up  to  Mrs. 
Cameron  she  said  some  pretty  words  of  welcome, 
which  were  really  not  overdone.  Mrs.  Cameron  was 
a  short,  stout  person ;  she  always  wore  black,  and 
her  black  was  always  rusty.  She  stood  now  in  the 
middle  of  the  drawing-room,  holding  Scorpion  in  her 
arms,  with  her  bonnet-strings  untied,  and  her  full, 
round  face  somewhat  flushed. 

"  No,  my  dear,  you  are  not  particularly  glad  to 
see  me,"  she  said,  in  answer  to  Helen's  gentle  digni 
fied  greeting.  "  I  don't  expect  it,  child,  nor  look  for 
it ;  and  you  need  not  waste  untruths  upon  me,  for 
I  always  see  through  them.  You  are  not  glad  to 
see  me,  and  I  am  not  surprised,  for  I  assure  you  I 
intend  to  make  myself  disagreeable.  Helen,  your 
father  is  a  perfect  fool.  Now,  my  dear,  you  need 
not  fire  up ;  you  would  say  so  if  you  were  as  old  as 
me,  and  had  received  as  idiotic  an  epistle  from 
him," 

"  But  I  am  not  as  old  as  you,  and  he  is  my 
father,"  said  Helen,  steadily.  "I  don't  tell  un 
truths,  Aunt  Maria,  and  I  am  glad  to  see  you  be- 


AUNT  MARIA.  89 

cause — because  you  were  fond  of  mother.  Will  you 
come  into  the  dining-room  now,  and  let  me  get  you 
some  tea  ?  " 

Helen's  lips  were  quivering,  and  her  dark  blue 
eyes  were  slightly  lowered,  so  that  Aunt  Maria 
should  not  notice  the  tears  that  filled  them.  The 
old  lady,  however,  had  noticed  these  signs  of  emo 
tion,  and  brave  words  always  pleased  her. 

"  You  aren't  a  patch  on  your  mother,  child,"  she 
said.  "  But  you  remind  me  of  her.  Yes,  take  me 
to  my  room  first,  and  then  get  me  a  good  substan 
tial  meal,  for  I  can  tell  you  I  am  starving." 

Helen  rang  the  bell. 

"  Alice,"  she  said  to  the  parlor-maid,  who  speedily 
answered  the  summons,  "will  you  get  the  Rose 
room  ready  as  quickly  as  possible  ?  My  aunt,  Mrs. 
Cameron,  will  stay  here  for  the  night.  And  please 
lay  supper  in  the  dining-room.  Tell  Mrs.  Power — 
oh,  I  forgot — see  and  get  as  nice  a  supper  as  you 
can,  Alice.  You  had  better  speak  to  Miss  Polly." 

"Yes,  Miss,"  said  Alice.  Then  she  paused, 
hesitated,  colored  slightly,  and  said,  in  a  dubious 
manner,  "Is  it  the  Rose  room  you  mean,  Miss 
Helen  ?  That's  the  room  Miss  Polly  is  getting 
ready  for  Miss  Virginy,  and  there  ain't  no  curtains 
to  the  window  nor  to  the  bed  at  present." 

"  Then  I  won't  sleep  in  that  bed,"  said  Mrs. 
Cameron.  "I  must  have  a  four-poster  with  cur 
tains  all  round,  and  plenty  of  dark  drapery  to  the 
windows.  My  eyes  are  weak,  and  I  don't  intend  to 
have  them  injured  with  the  cold  morning  light  off 
the  moor. 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Maria,  the  mornings  aren't  very  light 
now,"  answered  Helen.  "  They  are " 

But  Mrs.  Cameron  interrupted  her. 

« Don't  talk  nonsense,  child.    In  a  decent  place 


90  POLLY. 

like  Bath  I  own  the  day  may  break  gradually,  but 
I  expect  everything  contrary  to  civilized  existence 
here.  The  very  thought  of  those  awful  commons 
makes  me  shiver.  Now,  have  you,  or  have  you  not, 
a  four-poster,  in  which  I  can  sleep  ?  " 

Helen  smothered  a  slight  sigh.  She  turned  once 
again  to  Alice. 

"  Will  you  get  my  father's  room  ready  for  Mrs. 
Cameron,"  she  said,  "  and  then  see  about  supper  as 
quickly  as  possible?  Father  is  away  for  a  few 
days,"  she  added,  turning  to  the  good  lady.  "  Please 
will  you  come  up  to  Polly's  and  my  room  now  to 
take  off  your  things  ?  " 

"  And  where  is  Polly  ? "  said  Mrs.  Cameron. 
"  And  why  doesn't  she  come  to  speak  to  her  aunt  ? 
There's  Kate,  too,  she  must  be  a  well-grown  girl  by 
now,  and  scarcely  gone  to  bed  yet.  The  rest  of  the 
family  are,  I  presume,  asleep ;  that  is,  if  there's  a 
grain  of  sense  left  in  the  household." 

"  Yes,  most  of  the  children  are  in  bed,"  replied 
Helen.  "  You  will  see  Polly  and  Katie,  and  per 
haps  the  twins,  later  on,  but  first  of  all  I  want  to 
make  you  comfortable.  You  must  be  very  tired ; 
you  have  had  a  long  journey." 

"  I'm  beat  out,  child,  and  that's  the  truth.  Here, 
I'll  lay  Scorpion  down  in  the  middle  of  your  bed ; 
he  has  been  a  great  worry  to  me  all  day,  and  he 
wants  his  sleep.  He  likes  to  get  between  the  sheets, 
so  if  you  don't  mind  I'll  open  the  bed  and  let  him 
slip  down." 

"  If  you  want  me  to  be  truthful,  I  do  mind  very 
much,"  said  Helen.  "  Oh,  you  are  putting  him  into 
Polly's  bed.  Well,  I  suppose  he  must  stay  there  for 
the  present." 

Mrs.  Cameron  was  never  considered  an  unamiable 
person ;  she  was  well  spoken  of  by  her  friends  and 


MARIA.  91 

relations,  for  she  was  rich,  and  gave  away  a  great 
deal  of  money  to  various  charities  and  benevolent 
institutions.  But  if  ever  any  one  expected  her  to 
depart  in  the  smallest  particular  from  her  own  way 
they  were  vastly  mistaken.  Whatever  her  goal, 
whatever  her  faintest  desire,  she  rode  roughshod 
over  all  prejudices  until  she  obtained  it.  Therefore 
it  was  that,  notwithstanding  poor  Helen's  protest, 
Scorpion  curled  down  comfortably  between  Polly's 
sheets,  and  Mrs.  Cameron,  well  pleased  at  having 
won  her  point,  went  down  to  supper. 

Alas,  and  alas !  the  supper  provided  for  the  good 
lady  was  severe  in  its  simplicity.  Alice,  blushing 
and  uncomfortable,  called  Helen  out  of  the  room, 
and  then  informed  her  that  neither  Polly  nor  Maggie 
could  be  found,  and  that  there  was  literally  nothing, 
or  next  to  nothing,  in  the  larder. 

"  But  that  can't  be  the  case,"  said  Helen,  "  for 
there  was  a  large  piece  of  cold  roast  beef  brought 
up  for  my  tea,  and  a  great  plate  of  hot  cakes,  and 
an  uncut  plum-cake.  Surely,  Alice,  you  must  be 
mistaken." 

"No,  Miss,  there's  nothing  downstairs.  Not  a 
joint,  nor  a  cake,  nor  nothing.  If  it  wasn't  that  I 
found  some  new-laid  eggs  in  the  hen-house,  and  cut 
some  slices  from  the  uncooked  ham,  I  couldn't  have 
had  nothing  at  all  for  supper — and — and " 

'-  Tut,  tut ! "  suddenly  exclaimed  a  voice  in  the 
dining-room.  "  What's  all  this  whispering  about  ? 
It  is  very  rude  of  little  girls  to  whisper  outside 
doors,  and  not  to  attend  to  their  aunts  when  they 
come  a  long  way  to  see  them.  If  you  don't  come 
in  at  once,  Miss  Helen,  and  give  me  my  tea,  I  shall 
help  myself." 

"  Find  Polly,  then,  as  quick  as  you  can,  Alice," 
exclaimed  poor,  perplexed  Helen,  "and  tell  her 


92  POLLY. 

that  Aunt  Maria  Cameron  has  come  and  is  going  to 
stay." 

Alice  went  away,  and  Helen,  returning  to  the 
dining-room,  poured  out  tea,  and  cut  bread-and- 
butter,  and  saw  her  aunt  demolishing  with  appetite 
three  new-laid  eggs,  and  two  generous  slices  of  fried 
ham. 

"  Your  meal  was  plain ;  but  I  am  satisfied  with 
it,"  she  said  in  conclusion.  "  I  am  glad  you  live 
frugally,  Helen  ;  waste  is  always  sinful,  and  in  your 
case  peculiarly  so.  You  don't  mind  my  telling  you, 
my  dear,  that  I  think  it  is  a  sad  extravagance  wear 
ing  crape  every  day,  but  of  course  you  don't  know 
any  better.  You  are  nothing  in  the  world  but  an 
overgrown  child.  Now  that  I  have  come,  my  dear, 
I  shall  put  this  and  many  other  matters  to  rights. 
Tell  me,  Helen,  how  long  does  your  father  intend 
to  be  away  ?  " 

"  Until  Monday,  I  think,  Aunt  Maria." 

"  Very  well ;  then  you  and  I  will  begin  our  re 
forms  to-morrow.  I'll  take  you  round  with  me,  and 
we'll  look  into  everything.  Your  father  won't  know 
the  house  when  he  comes  back.  I've  got  a  treasure 
of  a  woman  in  my  eye  for  him— a  Miss  Grinsted. 
She  is  fifty,  and  a  strict  disciplinarian.  She  will 
soon  manage  matters,  and  put  this  house  into  some 
thing  like  order.  I  had  a  great  mind  to  bring  her 
with  me ;  but  I  can  send  for  her.  She  can  'be  here 
by  Monday  or  Tuesday.  I  told  her  to  be  hi  readi 
ness,  and  to  have  her  boxes  packed.  My  dear,  I 
wish  you  would  not  poke  out  your  chin  so  much. 
How  old  are  you  ?  Oh,  sixteen — a  very  gawky  age 
Now  then,  that  I  am  refreshed  and  rested,  I  think 
that  we'll  just  go  round  the  house." 

**  Will  you  not  wait  until  to-morrow,  Aunt  Maria  ? 


AUNT  MARIA.  93 

The  children  are  all  asleep  and  in  bed  now,  and 
Nurse  never  likes  them  to  be  disturbed." 

"  My  dear,  Nurse's  likes  or  dislikes  are  not  of  the 
smallest  importance  to  me.  I  wish  to  see  the  chil 
dren  asleep,  so  if  yon  will  have  the  goodness  to  light 
a  candle,  Helen,  and  lead  the  way,  I  will  follow." 

Helen  again  stifling  a  sigh,  obeyed.  She  felt  full 
of  trepidation  and  uneasiness.  Why  did  not  Polly 
come  in?  Why  had  all  the  supper  disappeared? 
Where  were  Katie  and  the  twins  ?  How  strangely 
silent  the  house  was. 

"  I  will  see  the  baby  first,"  said  Mrs.  Cameron. 
"  In  bed  ?  Well,  no  matter,  I  wish  to  look  at  the 
little  dear.  Ah,  this  is  the  nursery ;  a  nice,  cheer 
ful  room,  but  too  much  light  in  it,  and  no  curtains 
to  the  windows.  Very  bad  for  the  dear  baby's  eyes. 
How  do  you  do,  Nurse  ?  I  have  come  to  see  baby. 
I  am  her  aunt,  her  dear  mother's  sister,  Maria  Cam 
eron." 

Nurse  curtseyed. 

"  Baby  is  asleep,  ma'am,"  she  said.  "I  have  just 
settled  her  in  her  little  crib  for  the  night.  She's  a 
good,  healthy  child,  and  no  trouble  to  any  one.  Yes, 
ma'am,  she  has  a  look  of  her  dear  blessed  ma.  I'll 
just  hold  down  the  sheet,  and  you'll  see.  Please, 
ma'am,  don't  hold  the  light  full  in  the  babe's  eyes, 
you'll  wake  her." 

"  My  good  woman,  I  handled  babies  before  you 
did.  I  had  this  child's  mother  in  my  arms  when  she 
was  a  baby.  Yes,  the  infant  is  well  enough ;  you're 
mistaken  in  there  being  any  likeness  to  your  late 
mistress  in  her.  She  seems  a  plain  child,  but  healthy. 
If  you  don't  watch  her  sight,  she  may  get  delicate 
eyes,  however.  I  should  recommend  curtains  being 
put  up  immediately  to  these  windows,  and  your 
only  using  night-lights  when  she  sleeps.  It  is  not 


94r  POLLY. 

I  that  am  likely  to  injure  the  baby  with  too  much 
light.  Good  evening,  Nurse." 

Nurse  muttered  something,  her  brow  growing 
black. 

"  Now,  Helen,"  continued  Mrs.  Cameron,  "  we  will 
visit  the  other  children.  This  is  the  boys'  room,  I 
presume.  I  am  fond  of  boys.  What  are  your 
brothers'  names,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  We  call  them  Bob  and  Bunny." 

"Utterly  ridiculous!  I  ask  for  their  baptismal 
names,  not  for  anything  so  silly.  Ah!  oh — I 
thought  you  said  they  were  in  bed  :  these  beds  are 
empty." 

So  they  were ;  tossed  about,  no  doubt,  but  with  no 
occupants,  and  the  bed-clothes  no  longer  warm  ;  so 
that  it  could  not  have  been  quite  lately  that  the 
truants  had  departed  from  their  nightly  places  of 
rest.  On  further  investigation,  Firefly's  bed  was 
also  found  in  a  sad  state  of  deshabille  and  it  was 
clearly  proved,  on  visiting  their  apartments,  that 
the  twins  and  Katie  had  not  gone  to  bed  at  all. 

".Then,  my  dear,  where  are  the  family  ?"  said 
Mrs.  Cameron.  "  You  and  that  little  babe  are  the 
only  ones  I  have  yet  seen.  Where  is  Mary  ?  where 
is  Katharine  ?  Where  are  your  brothers  ?  My  dear 
Helen,  this  is  awful ;  your  brothers  and  sisters  are 
evidently  playing  midnight  pranks.  Oh,  there  is  not 
a  doubt  of  it,  you  need  not  tell  me.  What  a  good 
thing  it  is  that  I  came  !  Oh  !  my  poor  dear  sister  ; 
what  a  state  her  orphans  have  been  reduced  to  I 
There  is  nothing  whatever  for  it  but  to  telegraph 
for  Miss  Grinsted  in  the  morning. 

"  But,  my  dear  auntie,  I  am  sure,  oh  !  I  am  sure 
you  are  mistaken,"  began  poor  Helen.  "  The  chil 
dren  are  always  very  well  behaved — they  are,  indeed 
they  are.  They  don't  play  pranks,  Aunt  Maria." 


AUNT  MARIA.  95 

"  Allow  me  to  use  my  own  eyesight,  Helen.  The 
beds  are  empty — not  a  child  is  to  be  found.  Come, 
we  must  search  the  house  !  " 

Helen  never  to  her  dying  day  forgot  that  eerie 
journey  through  the  deserted  house,  accompanied  by 
Aunt  Maria.  She  never  forgot  the  sickening  fear 
which  oppressed  her,  and  the  certainty  which  came 
over  her  that  Polly,  poor,  excitable  Polly,  was  up  to 
some  mischief.  • 

Sleepy  Hollow  was  a  large  and  rambling  old 
place,  and  it  was  some  time  before  the  searchers 
reached  the  neighborhood  of  the  festive  garret. 
When  they  did,  however,  there  was  no  longer  any 
room  for  doubt.  Wild  laughter,  and  high-pitched 
voices  singing  many  favorite  nursery  airs  and  school 
room  songs,  made  noise  enough  to  reach  the  ears 
even  of  the  deafest.  "  John  Peel "  was  having  a 
frantic  chorus  as  Helen  and  her  aunt  ascended  the 
step-ladder. 

"  For  the  sound  of  his  horn  brought  me  from  my  bed, 
And  the  cry  of  his  hounds  which  he  ofttimes  led, 
Peel's  '  View  Hulloo  ! '  would  awaken  the  dead, 
Or  the  fox  from  his  lair  in  the  morning." 

"  Very  nice,  indeed,"  said  Aunt  Maria,  as  she  burst 
open  the  garret  door.  Very  nice  and  respectful  to 
the  memory  of  your  dear  mother  !  I  am  glad,  chil 
dren,  that  I  have  come  to  create  decent  order  in  this 
establishment.  I  am  your  aunt,  Maria  Cameron." 


96 


CHAPTER  XV. 

PUNISHMENT. 

THERE  are  occasions  when  people  who  are  accused 
wrongfully  of  a  fault  will  take  it  patiently  :  there  was 
scarcely  ever  known  to  be  a  time  when  wrong-doers 
did  so. 

The,  children  in  the  garret  were  having  a  wild  time 
of  mirth  and  excitement.  There  was  no  time  for  any 
one  to  think,  no  time  for  any  one  to  do  aught  but 
enjoy.  The  lateness  of  the  hour,  the  stealthy  gather 
ing,  the  excellent  supper,  and,  finally,  the  gay  songs, 
had  roused  the  young  spirits  to  the  highest  pitch. 
Polly  was  the  life  of  everything ;  Maggie,  her  de 
voted  satellite,  had  a  face  which  almost  blazed  with 
excitement. 

Her  small  eyes  twinkled  like  stars,  her  broad 
mouth  never  ceased  to  show  a  double  row  of  snowy 
teeth.  She  revolved  round  her  brothers  and  sisters, 
whispering  in  their  ears,  violently  nudging  them, 
and  piling  on  the  agony  in  the  shape  of  cups  of 
richly  creamed  and  sugared  tea,  of  thick  slices  of 
bread-and-butter  and  jam,  and  plum  cake,  topped 
with  bumpers  of  foaming  ginger-beer. 

Repletion  had  reached  such  a  pass  in  the  case  of 
the  Ricketts  brother  and  sister  that  they  could 
scarcely  move  ;  the  Jones  brothers  were  also  be 
coming  slightly  heavy-eyed  ;  but  the  Maybright 
children  fluttered  about  here  and  there  like  gay 
butterflies,  and  were  on  the  point  of  getting  up  a 
dance  when  Aunt  Maria  and  the  frightened  Helen 
burst  upon  the  scene. 


PUNISHMENT.  9\ 

It  required  a  much  less  acute  glance  than  Aunt 
Maria's  to  point  out  Polly  as  the  ringleader.  She 
headed  the  group  of  mirth-seekers,  every  lip  re 
sounded  with  her  name,  all  the  other  pairs  of  young 
eyes  turned  to  her.  When  the  garret-door  was 
flung  open,  and  Aunt  Maria  in  no  measured  tones 
announced  herself,  the  children  flew  like  frightened 
chickens  to  hide  under  Polly's  wing.  The  Rick- 
ettses  and  Joneses  scrambled  to  their  feet,  and  ran 
to  find  shelter  as  close  as  possible  to  headquarters. 
Thus,  when  Polly  at  last  found  her  voice,  and  turned, 
round  to  speak  to  Aunt  Maria,  she  looked  like  the 
flushed  and  triumphant  leader  of  a  little  victorious 
garrison.  She  was  quite  carried  away  by  the  excite 
ment  of  the  whole  thing,  and  defiance  spoke  both  in 
her  eyes  and  manner. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Aunt  Maria  ?  "  she  said.  "  We 
did  not  expect  you.  We  were  having  supper,  and 
have  just  finished.  I  would  ask  you  to  have  some 
with  us,  only  I  am  afraid  there  is  not  a  clean  plate 
left.  Is  there,  Maggie  ?  " 

Maggie  answered  with  a  high  and  nervous  giggle, 
"  Oh,  lor',  Miss  Polly  !  that  there  ain't ;  and  there's 
nothing  but  broken  victuals  either  on  the  table  by 
now.  We  was  all  hungry,  you  know,  Miss  Polly." 

"  So  perhaps,"  continued  Polly;  "  you  would  go 
down-stairs  again,  Aunt  Maria.  Helen,  will  you  take 
Aunt  Maria  to  the  drawing-room  ?  I  will  come  as 
soon  as  I  see  the  supper  things  put  away.  Helen, 
why  do  you  look  at  me  like  that  ?  What's  the 
matter?" 

"  Oh,  Polly ! "  said  Helen,  in  her  most  reproachful 
tones. 

She  was  turning  away,  but  Aunt  Maria  caught 
her  rather  roughly  by  the  shoulder. 

"Do  all  this  numerous   party    belong   to    the 


9$  POLLY. 

family?"  she  said.  "I  see  here  present  thirteen 
children.  I  never  knew  before  that  my  sister  had 
such  an  enormous  family." 

Helen  felt  in  far  too  great  a  state  of  collapse  to 
make  any  reply ;  but  Polly's  saucy,  glib  tones  were 
again  heard. 

"  These  are  our  visitors,  Aunt  Maria.  Allow  me 
to  introduce  them.  Master  and  Miss  Ricketts, 
Masters  Tom,  Jim,  and  Peter  Jones.  This  is  Maggie, 
my  satellite,  and  devoted  friend,  and — and — 

But  Aunt  Maria's  patience  had  reached  its  tether. 
She  was  a  stout,  heavily-made  woman,  and  when 
she  walked  into  the  center  of  Polly's  garrison  she 
quickly  dispersed  it. 

"  March ! "  she  said,  laying  her  hand  heavily  on 
the  girl's  shoulder.  "To  your  room  this  instant. 
Come,  I  shall  see  you  there,  and  lock  you  in.  You 
are  a  very  bad,  wicked,  heartless  girl,  and  I  am 
bitterly  ashamed  of  you.  To  your  room  this  minute. 
While  your  father  is  away  you  are  under  my 
control,  and  I  insist  on  being  obeyed." 

"  Oh,  lor ! "  gasped  Maggie.  "  Run,"  she  whispered 
to  her  brother  and  sister.  "Make  for  the  door, 
quick.  Oh,  ain't  it  awful !  Oh,  poor  dear  Miss 
Polly !  Why,  that  dreadful  old  lady  will  almost 
kill  her." 

But  no,  Polly  was  still  equal  to  the  emergency. 

"  You  need  not  hold  me,  Aunt  Maria,"  she  said, 
in  a  quiet  voice,  "  I  can  go  without  that.  Good 
night,  children.  I  am  sorry  our  jolly  time  has  had 
such  an  unpleasant  ending.  Now  then,  I'll  go  with 
you,  Aunt  Maria." 

"  In  front,  then,"  said  Aunt  Maria.  "  No  loitering 
behind.  Straight  to  your  room." 

Polly  walked  down  tne  dusty  ladder  obediently 
enough ;  Aunt  Maria,  scarlet  in  the  face,  stumped 


PUNISHMENT.  99 

and  waddled  after  her ;  Helen,  very  pale,  and  feeling 
half  terrified,  brought  up  the  rear.  All  went  well, 
and  the  truant  exhibited  no  signs  of  rebellion  until 
they  reached  the  wide  landing  which  led  in  one 
direction  to  the  girl's  bedroom,  in  the  other  to  the 
staircase. 

Here  Polly  turned  at  bay. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  my  room  at  present,"  she  said. 
"  If  I've  been  naughty,  father  can  punish  me  when 
he  comes  home.  You  can  tell  anything  you  like  to 
father  when  he  comes  back  on  Monday.  But  I'm 
not  going  to  obey  you.  You  have  no  authority 
over  me,  and  I'm  not  responsible  to  you.  Father 
can  punish  me  as  much  as  he  likes  when  you  have 
told  him.  I'm  going  down-stairs,  now ;  it's  too 
early  for  bed.  I've  not  an  idea  of  obeying  you." 

"  We  will  see  to  that,"  said  Aunt  Maria.  "  You 
are  quite  the  naughtiest  child  I  ever  came  across. 
Now  then,  Miss,  if  you  don't  go  patiently,  and  on 
your  own  feet,  you  shall  be  conveyed  to  your  room 
in  my  arms.  I  am  quite  strong  enough,  so  you  can 
choose." 

Polly's  eyes  flashed. 

"  If  you  put  it  in  that  way,  I  don't  want  to  fuss," 
she  said.  "  I'll  go  there  for  the  present,  but  you 
can't  keep  me  there,  and  you  needn't  try." 

Aunt  Maria  and  Polly  disappeared  round  the 
corner,  and  poor  Helen  stood  leaning  against  the 
oak  balustrade,  silently  crying.  In  three  or  four 
minutes  Aunt  Maria  returned,  her  face  still  red, 
and  the  key  of  the  bedroom  in  her  pocket. 

"Now,  Helen,  what  is  the  matter?  Crying? 
Well,  no  wonder.  Of  course,  you  are  ashamed  of 
your  sister.  I  never  met  such  a  naughty,  impertinent 
girl.  Can  it  be  possible  that  Helen  should  have 
such  a  child?  She  must  take  entirely  after  her 


100  POLLY. 

father.  Now,  Helen,  stop  crying,  tears  are  most 
irritating  to  me,  and  do  no  good  to  any  one.  I  am 
glad  I  arrived  at  this  emergency.  Matters  have 
indeed  come  to  a  pretty  crisis.  In  your  father's 
absence,  I  distinctly  declare  that  I  take  the  rule  of 
my  poor  sister's  orphans,  and  I  shall  myself  mete 
out  the  punishment  for  the  glaring  act  of  rebellion 
that  I  have  just  witnessed.  Polly  remains  in  her 
room,  and  has  a  bread  and  water  diet  until  Monday. 
The  other  children  have  bread  and  water  for  break 
fast  in  the  morning,  and  go  to  bed  two  hours  before 
their  usual  time  to-morrow.  The  kitchenmaid  I 
shall  dismiss  in  the  morning,  giving  her  a  month's 
wages  hi  lieu  of  notice.  Now,  Helen,  come  down 
stairs.  Oh,  there  is  just  one  thing  more.  You 
must  find  some  other  room  to  sleep  in  to-night.  I 
forbid  you  to  go  near  your  sister.  In  fact,  I  shall 
not  give  you  the  key.  You  may  share  my  bed,  if 
you  like." 

"  I  cannot  do  that,  Aunt  Maria,"  said  Helen.  "  I 
respect  you,  and  will  obey  you  as  far  as  I  can  until 
father  returns,  and  tells  us  what  we  really  ought  to 
do.  But  I  cannot  stay  away  from  Polly  to-night 
for  any  one.  I  know  she  has  been  very  naughty. 
I  am  as  shocked  as  you  can  be  with  all  that  has 
happened,  but  I  know  too,  Aunt  Maria,  that  harsh 
treatment  will  ruin  Polly ;  she  won't  stand  it,  she 
never  would,  and  mother  never  tried  it  with  her. 
She  is  different  from  the  rest  of  us,  Aunt  Maria ; 
she  is  wilder,  and  fiercer,  and  freer ;  but  mother 
often  said,  oh,  often  and  often,  that  no  one  might 
be  nobler  than  Polly,  if  only  she  was  guided  right. 
I  know  she  is  troublesome,  I  know  she  was  impert 
inent  to  you,  and  I  know  well  she  did  very  wrong, 
but  she  is  only  fourteen,  and  she  has  high  spirits. 
You  can't  bend,  nor  drive  Polly,  Aunt  Maria,  but 


PUNISHMENT.  101 

gentleness  and  love  can  always  lead  her.  I  must 
sleep  in  my  own  bed  to-night,  Aunt  Maria.  Oh, 
don't  refuse  me — please  give  me  up  the  key." 

"  You  are  a  queer  girl,"  said  Aunt  Maria.  "  But 
I  believe  yok  are  the  best  of  them,  and  you  cer 
tainly  remind  me  of  your  mother  when  you  speak 
in  that  earnest  fashion.  Here,  take  the  key,  then, 
but  be  sure  you  lock  the  door  when  you  go  in,  and 
when  you  come  out  again  in  the  morning.  I  trust 
to  you  that  that  little  wild,  impertinent  sister  of 
yours  doesn't  escape — now,  remember." 

"  While  I  am  there  she  will  not,"  answered  Helen. 
"  Thank  you,  auntie.  You  look  very  tired  yourself, 
won't  you  go  to  bed  now  ?  " 

"  I  will,  child.  I'm  fairly  beat  out.  Such  a  scene 
is  enough  to  disturb  the  strongest  nerves.  Only 
what  about  the  other  children?  Are  they  still 
carousing  in  that  wicked  way  in  the  garret  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  sure  they  have  gone  to  bed,  thoroughly 
ashamed  of  themselves.  But  I  will  go  and  see  to 
them." 

"  One  thing  more,  child.  Before  I  go  to  bed  I 
should  like  to  fill  in  a  telegraph  form  to  Miss  Grin- 
sted.  If  she  gets  it  the  first  thing  in  the  morning 
she  can  reach  here  to-morrow  night.  Well,  Helen, 
again  objecting  ;  you  evidently  mean  to  cross  me  in 
everything,'  now  what  is  the  matter?  Why  has 
your  face  such  a  piteous  look  upon  it  ?  " 

"  Only  this,  Aunt  Maria.  Until  father  returns  I 
am  quite  willing  to  obey  you,  and  I  will  do  my  best 
to  make  the  others  good  and  obedient.  But  I  do 
think  he  would  be  vexed  at  your  getting  Miss 
Grinsted  until  you  have  spoken  to  him.  Won't 
you  wait  until  Monday  before  you  telegraph  for 
her  ?  " 

"  I'll  sleep  on  it,  anyhow,"  replied  Mrs.  Cameron. 


102 

"  Good-night,  child.  You  remind  me  very  much  of 
your  mother — not  in  appearance,  but  in  the  curious 
way  you  come  round  a  person,  and  insist  upon  hav 
ing  everything  done  exactly  as  you  like.  Now,  my 
dear,  good-night.  I  consider  you  all  the  most  de 
moralized  household,  but  I  won't  be  here  long  before 
matters  are  on  a  very  different  footing." 

The  bedroom  door  really  closed  upon  Aunt  Maria, 
and  Helen  drew  a  long  breath. 

Oh,  for  Monday  to  arrive  !  Oh,  for  any  light  to 
guide  the  perplexed  child  in  this  crisis !  But  she  had 
no  time  to  think  now.  She  flew  to  the  garret,  to  find 
only  the  wreck  of  the  feast  and  one  or  two  candles 
flickering  in  their  sockets.  She  put  the  candles  out, 
and  went  next  to  the  children's  bedrooms.  Bob  and 
Bunny,  with  flushed  faces,  were  lying  once  more  in 
their  cribs,  fast  asleep.  They  were  dreaming  and 
tossing  about,  and  Nurse  stood  over  them  with  a 
perplexed  and  grave  face. 

"  This  means  nightmare,  and  physic  in  the  morn 
ing,"  said  the  worthy  woman.  "Now,  don't  you 
fret  and  worry  your  dear  head,  Miss  Helen,  pet. 
Oh,  yes,  I  know  all  about  it,  and  it  was  a  naughty 
thing  to  do,  only  children  will  be  children.  Your 
aunt  needn't  expect  that  her  old  crabbed  head  and 
ways  will  fit  on  young  shoulders.  You  might  go 
to  Miss  Firefly,  though,  for  a  minute,  Miss  Helen, 
for  she's  crying  fit  to  break  her  heart." 

Helen  went  off  at  once.  Firefly  was  a  very  ex 
citable  and  delicate  child.  She  found  the  little  crea 
ture  with  her  head  buried  under  the  clothes,  her 
whole  form  shaken  with  sobs. 

"  Lucy,  darling,"  said  Helen. 

The  seldom-used  name  aroused  the  weeping  child ; 
she  raised  her  head,  and  flung  two  thin  arms  so  tightly 
round  Helen's  neck  that  she  felt  half  strangled. 


PUNISHMENT.  103 

"  Oh,  it's  so  awful,  Nell ;  what  will  she  do  to  poor 
Polly !  Oh,  poor  Polly !  Will  she  half  kill  her, 
Nell  ?  " 

"  No,  Fly — how  silly  of  you  to  take  such  an  idea 
into  your  head.  Fly,  dear,  stop  crying  at  once — you 
know  you  have  all  been  naughty,  and  Polly  has  hurt 
Aunt  Maria,  and  hurt  me,  too.  You  none  of  you 
knew  Aunt  Maria  was  coming,  but  I  did  not  think 
you  would  play  such  a  trick  on  me,  and  when  father 
was  away,  too." 

"  It  wasn't  Polly's  fault,"  said  Firefly,  eagerly. 
"  She  was  tempted,  and  we  were  the  tempters.  We 
all  came  round  her,  and  we  did  coax  so  hard,  and 
Polly  gave  way,  'cause  she  wanted  to  make  us  happy. 
She's  a  darling,  the  dearest  darling  in  all  the  world, 
and  if  Aunt  Maria  hurts  her  and  she  dies,  I — I " 

The  little  face  worked  in  a  paroxysm  of  grief  and 
agony. 

"Don't,  Fly,"  said  Helen.  "You  are  much  too 
tired  and  excited  for  me  to  talk  calmly  to  you  to 
night.  You  have  been  naughty,  darling,  and  so  has 
Polly,  and  real  naughtiness  is  always  punished, 
always,  somehow  or  another.  But  you  need  not  be 
afraid  that  any  real  harm  will  happen  to  Polly.  I 
am  going  to  her  in  a  moment  or  two,  so  you  need 
not  be  in  the  least  anxious.  Now  fold  your  hands, 
Fly,  and  say  '  Our  Father.'  Say  it  slowly  after  me." 

Firefly's  sobs  had  become  much  less.  She  now  lay 
quiet,  her  little  chest  still  heaving,  but  with  her  eyes 
open,  and  fixed  with  a  pathetic  longing  on  Helen's 
face. 

"You're  nearly  as  good  as  mother,"  she  said 
"  And  I  love  you.  But  Polly  always,  always  must 
come  first.  Nell,  I'll  say  '  Our  Father,'  only  not 
the  part  about  forgiving,  for  I  can't  forgive  Aunt 
Maria." 


104  POLLY. 

"  My  dear  child,  you  are  talking  in  a  very  silly 
way.  Aunt  Maria  has  done  nothing  but  her  duty, 
nothing  to  make  you  really  angry  with  her.  Now, 
Fly,  it  is  late,  and  Polly  wants  me.  Say  those  dear 
words,  for  mother's  sake." 

These  was  no  child  at  Sleepy  Hollow  who  would 
not  have  done  anything  for  mother's  sake,  so  the 
prayer  was  whispered  with  some  fresh  gasps  of  pain 
and  contrition,  and  before  Helen  left  the  room,  little 
Lucy's  pretty  dark  eyes  were  closed,  and  her  small, 
sallow,  excitable  face  was  tranquil. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

DB.  MAYBBIGHT  V6TSUS  SCORPION. 

DR.  MAYBRIGHT  returned  to  his  home  on  Monday 
evening  in  tolerably  good  spirits.  He  had  gone  up 
to  London  about  a  money  matter  which  caused  him 
some  anxiety ;  his  fears  were,  for  the  present  at  least, 
quite  lulled  to  rest,  and  he  had  taken  the  opportunity 
of  consulting  one  of  the  greatest  oculists  of  the  day 
with  regard  to  his  eyesight.  The  verdict  was  more 
hopeful  than  the  good  Doctor  had  dared  to  expect. 
With  care,  total  blindness  might  be  altogether 
avoided ;  at  the  worst  it  would  not  come  for  some 
time.  A  certain  regimen  was  recommended,  over 
work  was  forbidden,  all  great  anxiety  was  to  be 

avoided,  and  then,  and  then Well,  at  least  the 

blessed  light  of  day  might  be  enjoyed  by  the 
Doctor  for  years  to  come. 

"  But  you  must  not  overwork,"  said  the  oculist, 
"  and  you  must  not  worry.  You  must  read  very  little, 
and  you  must  avoid  chills :  for  should  a  cold  attack 


DR.  MAYBRIGHT  VERSUS  SCORPION.       105 

your  eyes  now  the  consequences  would  be  serious." 
On  the  whole  this  verdict  was  favorable,  and  the 
Doctor  returned  to  Sleepy  Hollow  with  a  consider 
able  weight  lifted  from  his  mind.  As  the  train  bore 
him  homeward  through  the  mellow,  ripened  country 
with  the  autumn  colors  glorifying  the  landscape, 
and  a  rich  sunlight  casting  a  glow  over  everything, 
his  heart  felt  peaceful.  Even  with  the  better  part 
of  him  gone  away  forever,  he  could  look  forward 
with  pleasure  to  the  greeting  of  his  children,  and 
find  much  consolation  in  the  love  of  their  young 
hearts. 

"  After  all,  there  never  were  girls  quite  like  Helen 
and  Polly,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  They  both  in  their 
own  way  take  after  their  mother.  Helen  has  got 
that  calm  which  was  always  so  refreshing  and  restful 
in  her  mother ;  and  that  little  scapegrace  of  a  Polly 
inherits  a  good  deal  of  her  brilliancy.  I  wonder 
how  the  little  puss  has  managed  the  housekeeping. 
By  the  way,  her  week  is  up  to-day,  and  we  return 
to  Nell's  and  Mrs.  Power's  steadier  regime.  Poor 
Poll,  it  was  shabby  of  me  to  desert  the  family  dur 
ing  the  end  of  Indigestion  week,  but  doubtless 
matters  have  gone  fairly  well.  Nurse  has  all  her 
medicine  bottles  replenished,  so  that  in  case  of  need 
she  knew  what  to  do.  Poor  Poll,  she  really  made  an 
excellent  cake  for  my  supper  the  last  evening  I  was 
at  home." 

The  carriage  rolled  down  the  avenue,  and  the 
Doctor  alighted  on  his  own  door-steps  ;  as  he  did  so 
he  looked  round  with  a  pleased  and  expectant  smile 
on  his  face.  It  was  six  o'clock,  and  the  evenings 
were  drawing  in  quickly  ;  the  children  might  be 
indoors,  but  it  seemed  scarcely  probable.  The  little 
Maybrights  were  not  addicted  to  indoor  life,  and  as 
a  rule  their  gay,  shrill  voices  might  have  been  heard 


106  POLLY. 

echoing  all  over  the  old  place  long  after  sunset. 
Not  so  this  evening ;  the  place  was  almost  too  still ; 
there  was  no  rush  of  eager  steps  in  the  hall,  and  no 
clamor  of  gay  little  voices  without. 

Dr.  Maybright  felt  a  slight  chill ;  he  could  not  ac 
count  for  it.  The  carriage  turned  and  rolled  away, 
and  he  quickly  entered  the  house. 

"Polly,  where  are  you?  Nell,  Firfly,  Bunny," 
he  shouted. 

Still  there  was  no  response,  unless,  indeed,  the 
rustling  of  a  silk  dress  hi  the  drawing-room,  a  some 
what  subdued  and  half-nervous  cough,  and  the  un 
pleasant  yelping  of  a  small  dog  could  have  been 
construed  into  one. 

"Have  my  entire  family  emigrated?  And  is 
Sleepy  Hollow  let  to  strangers?  "  murmured  the 
Doctor. 

He  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  rustle,  the 
cough,  and  the  bark,  and  found  himself  suddenly  in 
the  voluminous  embrace  of  his  sister-in-law,  Mrs. 
Cameron. 

"  My  dear  Andrew,  I  am  pleased  to  see  you.  You 
have  been  in  the  deep  waters  of  affliction,  and  if  in 
my  power  I  would  have  come  to  you  sooner.  I  had 
rheumatism  and  a  natural  antipathy  to  solitude. 
Still  I  made  the  effort,  although  a  damper  or  more 
lonely  spot  would  be  hard  to  find.  I  don't  wonder 
at  my  poor  sister's  demise.  I  got  your  letter,  An 
drew,  and  it  was  really  in  reply  to  it  that  I  am  here. 
Down,  Scorpion ;  the  dog  will  be  all  right  in  a  mo 
ment  or  two*  my  dear  brother,  he  is  only  smelling 
your  trousers." 

"  He  has  a  very  marked  way  of  doing  so,"  re 
sponded  the  Doctor,  "  as  I  distinctly  feel  his  teeth. 
AUow  me,  Maria,  to  put  this  little  animal  outside 
window — a  dog's  bite  given  even  in  play  is  not 


Dfe.  MAYBRIGfiT  VE&8V8  SCORPION.      107 

the  most  desirable  acquisition.  Well,  Maria,  your 
visit  astonishes  me  very  much.  Welcome  to  Sleepy 
Hollow.  Did  you  arrive  to-day  ?  How  did  you 
find  the  children?" 

"  I  came  here  on  Friday  evening,  Andrew.  The 
children  are  as  well  as  such  poor  neglected  lambs 
could  be  expected  to  be." 

Dr.  Maybright  raised  his  eyebrows  very  slightly. 

"  I  was  not  aware  they  were  neglected,"  he  said. 
«  I  am  sorry  they  strike  you  so.  I  also  have  a  little 
natural  antipathy  to  hearing  children  compared  to 
sheep.  But  where  are  they?  I  have  been  away 
for  four  days,  and  am  in  the  house  five  minutes,  and 
not  the  voice  of  a  child  do  I  hear.  Where  is 
Helen — where  is  my  pretty  Poll  ?  Don't  they  know 
that  their  father  has  arrived  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,  Andrew.  I  have  been  alone 
myself  for  the  last  two  or  three  hours,  but  I  ordered 
your  tea  to  be  got  ready.  May  I  give  you  some  ? 
Shall  we  come  to  the  dining-room  at  once  ?  Your 
family  were  quite  well  three  hours  ago,  so  perhaps 
you  and  I  may  have  a  quiet  meal  together  before 
we  trouble  about  them  any  further.  I  think  I  may 
claim  this  little  indulgence,  as  only  properly  re 
spectful  to  your  wife's  sister,  Andrew." 

"  Yes,  Maria,  I  will  have  tea  with  you,"  said  ths, 
Doctor.  The  pleased,  bright  look  of  anticipation 
had  altogether  now  left  his  face ;  it  was  careworn, 
the  brow  slightly  puckered,  and  many  lines  of  care 
and  age  showed  round  the  lips. 

"  I  will  just  go  up  stairs  and  wash  my  hands," 
said  Dr.  Maybright.  "  Then  I  will  join  you  in  the 
dining-room." 

He  ran  up  the  low  stairs  to  his  own  room  ;  it  was 
not  only  full  of  Aunt  Maria's  possessions,  but  was 
guarded  by  the  faithful  Scorpion,  who  had  HOWE, 


108  [POLLY. 

there  in  disgust,  and  now  again  attacked  the 
Doctor's  legs. 

"  There  is  a  limit,"  he  murmured,  "  and  I  reach  it 
when  I  am  bitten  by  this  toy-terrier." 

He  lifted  Scorpion  by  his  neck,  and  administered 
one  or  two  short  slaps,  which  sent  the  pampered 
little  animal  yelping  under  the  bed ;  then  he  pro 
ceeded  down  the  passage  hi  search  of  some  other 
room  where  he  might  take  shelter. 

Alice  met  him ;  her  eyes  glowed,  and  the  «olor 
in  her  face  deepened. 

"  We  are  all  so  glad  you  are  back,  sir,"  she  said, 
with  an  affectionate  tone  in  her  voice.  "  And  Miss 
Helen  has  got  the  room  over  the  porch  ready,  if 
you'd  do  with  it  for  a  night  or  two,  sir.  I've  took 
hot  water  there,  sir,  for  I  saw  the  carriage  coming 
up  the  drive." 

"Thank  you,  Alice;  the  porch-room  will  do 
nicely.  By  the  way,  can  you  tell  me  where  all  the 
children  are  ?  " 

But  Alice  had  disappeared,  almost  flown  down 
the  passage,  and  the  Doctor  had  an  uncomfortable 
half-suspicion  that  he  heard  her  sob  as  she  went. 

Dr.  May  bright,  however,  was  not  a  fanciful  person 
— the  children,  with  the  exception  of  baby,  were  all 
probably  out.  It  was  certainly  rather  contrary  to 
their  usual  custom  to  be  away  when  his  return  was 
expected,  still,  he  argued,  consistency  in  children 
was  the  last  thing  to  be  expected.  He  went  down 
stairs,  therefore,  with  an  excellent  appetite  for  what 
ever  meal  Mrs.  Cameron  might  have  provided  for 
him,  and  once  more  in  tolerably  good  spirits. 

There  are  some  people  who  habitually,  and  from 
a  strong  sense  of  duty,  live  on  the  shady  side  of  life. 
Metaphorically  speaking,  the  sunshine  may  almost 
touch  the  very  path  on  which  they  are  treading,  but 


DR.  MAYBRIGHT  VERSUS  SCORPION.        109 

they  shrink  from  and  avoid  it,  having  a  strong 
preference  for  the  shade,  but  considering  themselves 
martyrs  while  they  live  in  it.  Mrs.  Camercn  was 
one  of  these  people.  The  circumstances  of  her  life, 
had  elected  plenty  of  sunshine  for  her  ;  she  had  a 
devoted  and  excellent  husband,  an  abundant  income, 
and  admirable  health.  It  is  true  she  had  no  chil 
dren,  and  it  is  also  true  that  she  had  brought  her 
self  by  careful  cultivation  to  a  state  of  chronic 
ill -temper.  Every  one  now  accepted  the  fact  that 
Mrs.  Cameron  neither  wished  to  be  happy,  nor  was 
happy ;  and  when  the  Doctor  sat  down  to  tea,  and 
found  himself  facing  her,  it  was  with  very  somber 
and  disapproving  eyes  that  she  regarded  him. 

"  Well,  Andrew,  I  must  say  you  look  remarkably 
well.  Dear,  dear,  there  is  no  constancy  in  this 
world,  that  is,  amongst  the  male  sex." 

Here  she  handed  him  a  cup  of  tea,  and  sighed 
lugubriously.  The  Doctor  accepted  the  tea  with  a 
slight  frown ;  he  was  a  peaceable  man,  but  as  he 
said,  when  chastising  Scorpion,  "  there  are  limits." 

"  If  you  have  no  objection,  Maria,"  he  said,  curtly, 
«  We  will  leave  the  subject  of  my  personal  appear 
ance  and  the  moral  question  which  you  have 
brought  forward  out  of  our  conversation." 

Then  his  voice  and  manner  changed ;  he  put  on  a 
company  smile,  and  continued,  without  any  pause, 
"  How  is  your  husband  ?  Is  he  as  great  an  anti 
quary  as  ever?  And  do  you  both  continue  to  like 
living  in  Bath  ?  " 

Mrs.  Cameron  was  a  strong  and  determined 
woman,  but  she  was  no  match  for  the  Doctor  when 
he  chose  to  have  his  own  way.  For  the  remainder 
of  the  meal  conversation  was  languid,  and  decidedly 
eomtijorplace ;  once  only  it  brightened  into  anima- 


HO  POLLY. 

"I  wonder  where  Scorpion  can  be?"  said  the 
good  lady  ;  "  I  want  to  give  him  his  cream." 

"  I  fear  he  is  under  punishment,"  said  the  Doctor. 
"  If  I  judge  of  him  aright,  Scorpion  is  something  of 
a  coward,  and  is  not  likely  to  come  into  the  same 
room  where  I  am  for  some  time." 

"What  do  you  mean?  Surely  you  have  not  been 
cruel  to  him  ?  " 

"  Cruel  to  be  kind.  Once  again  he  attempted  to 
eat  my  legs,  and  I  was  obliged  to  administer  one  or 
two  sharp  slaps — nothing  to  hurt ;  you  will  find 
him  under  your  bed.  And  now  I  really  must  go  to 
look  for  my  family." 

Dr.  Maybright  left  the  room,  and  Mrs.  Cameron 
sat  still,  scarlet  with  annoyance  and  indignation. 

"  How  could  Helen  have  married  such  a  man  ?  " 
she  said  to  herself.  "  I  never  can  get  on  with  him 
— never.  How  cowardly  it  was  of  him  to  hurt  the 
little  dog.  If  it  was  not  for  the  memory  of  poor 
dear  Helen  I  should  leave  here  by  the  first  train  in 
the  morning ;  but  as  it  is,  I  will  not  stir  until  I  have 
established  Miss  Grinsted  over  this  poor,  misguided 
household.  Ah,  well !  duty  is  ever  hard,  but  those 
who  know  Maria  Cameron  are  well  acquainted  with 
the  fact  that  she  never  shirked  it.  Yes,  I  will  stay ; 
it  will  be  very  unpleasant,  but  I  must  go  through  it. 
What  very  abrupt  manners  the  Doctor  has  !  I  was 
just  preparing  to  tell  him  all  about  that  wicked 
Polly  when  he  jumped  up  and  left  the  room.  Now, 
of  course,  he  will  get  a  wrong  impression  of  the 
whole  thing,  for  the  other  children  all  take  her  part. 
Very  bad  manners  to  jump  up  from  the  tea-table 
like  that.  And  where  is  Helen  ? — where  are  they 
all  ?  Now  that  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  have  seen 
nothing  of  any  one  of  them  since  the  early  dinner. 
Well,  well,  if  it  were  not  for  poor  Helen  I  should 


DR.  MAYBRIGHT  VERSUS  SCORPION, 

wash  my  hands  of  the  whole  concern.  But  who 
ever  suffers,  dear  little  Scorpion  must  have  his 
cream." 

Accordingly  Mrs.  Cameron  slowly  ascended  the 
stairs,  armed  with  a  saucer  and  a  little  jug,  and 
Scorpion  forgot  the  indignities  to  which  he  had  been 
subjected  as  he  lapped  up  his  dainty  meal. 

Meanwhile,  the  Doctor  having  explored  the  morn- 
itvg  room  and  the  school-rooms,  having  peeped  into 
the  conservatory,  and  even  peered  with  his  rather 
failing  sight  into  the  darkness  outside,  took  two  or 
three  strides  upstairs,  and  found  himself  in  the 
presence  of  Nurse  and  baby. 

"  Well,  Pearl,"  he  said,  taking  the  little  pure 
white  baby  into  his  arms,  looking  into  its  wee  face 
earnestly,  and  then  giving  it  a  kiss,  which  was  sad, 
and  yet  partook  of  something  of  the  nature  of  a 
blessing. 

"  Baby  goes  on  well,  Nurse,"  he  said,  returning 
the  little  creature  to  the  kind  woman's  arms.  Then 
he  looked  into  her  face,  and  his  own  expression 
changed. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  he  said,  abruptly.  "  You 
have  been  crying.  Is  anything  wrong?  Where 
have  all  the  children  vanished  to  ?  " 

"  You  have  had  your  tea,  sir  ?  "  said  Nurse,  her 
words  coming  out  in  jerks,  and  accompanied  by 
fresh  sobs.  "  You  have  had  your  tea,  and  is  partial 
rested,  I  hope,  so  it's  but  right  you  should  know. 
The  entire  family,  sir,  every  blessed  one  of  them, 
with  the  exception  of  the  babe,  has  took  upon  them 
selves  to  run  away." 


CHAPTER  XVH. 

WHEBE    ABE    THE    CHILDBEN  ? 

NUBSE'S  news  astonished  the  Doctor  very  much. 

He  was  not  a  man,  however,  to  show  all  he  felt 
He  saw  that  Nurse  was  on  the  verge  of  hysterics, 
and  he  knew  that  if  he  did  not  take  this  startling 
and  unpleasant  piece  of  information  in  the  most 
matter-of-fact  way,  he  would  get  nothing  out  of  her. 

"  I  hope  matters  are  not  as  bad  as  you  fear,"  he 
said.  "  Sit  down  in  this  chair,  and  tell  me  what  has 
occurred.  Don't  hurry  yourself;  a  few  moments 
more  or  less  don't  signify.  Tell  your  tale  quietly, 
in  your  own  way." 

Thus  administered,  Nurse  gasped  once  or  twice, 
looked  up  at  the  doctor  with  eyes  which  plainly 
declared  "  there  never  was  your  equal  for  blessed 
ness  and  goodness  under  the  sun,"  and  commenced 
her  story  in  the  long-winded  manner  of  her  class. 

The  Doctor  heard  a  garbled  account  of  the  supper 
in  the  attic,  of  the  arrival  of  Mrs.  Cameron,  of  the 
prompt  measures  which  that  good  lady  took  to  crush 
Polly,  of  Firefly's  grief,  of  the  state  of  confusion  into 
which  the  old  house  was  thrown.  She  then  went 
on  to  tell  him  further  that  Polly,  having  refused  to 
submit  or  repent  in  any  way,  Mrs.  Cameron  had  in 
sisted  on  her  remaining  in  her  own  room,  and  had 
at  last,  notwithstanding  all  Helen's  entreaties,  for 
bidden  her  to  go  near  her  sister.  The  housekeep 
ing  keys  were  taken  away  from  Polly,  and  Mrs. 
Cameron  had  further  taken  upon  herself  to  dismiss 
Maggie.  She  had  sent  a  telegram  to  Mrs.  Power, 


WHERE  ARE  THE  CHILDREN  ?  U3 

who  had  returned  in  triumph  to  Sleepy  Hollow  on 
Saturday  night. 

"Miserable  is  no  word  for  what  this  household 
has  been,"  said  Nurse.  "  There  was  Miss  Polly — 
naughty  she  may  have  been,  dear  lamb,  but  vicious 
she  ain't — there  was  Miss  Polly  shut  up  in  her 
room,  and  nobody  allowed  to  go  near  her  ;  and  Mrs. 
Cameron  poking  her  nose  into  this  corner  and  into 
that,  and  ordering  me  about  what  I  was  to  do  with 
the  babe ;  and  poor  Miss  Helen  following  her  about, 
for  all  the  world  like  a  ghost  herself,  so  still  and 
quiet  and  pitiful-looking,  but  like  a  dear  angel  in 
her  efforts  to  keep  the  peace ;  and  there  was  Alice 
giving  warning,  and  fit  to  fly  out  of  the  house  with 
rage,  and  Mrs.  Power  coming  back,  and  lording  it 
over  us  all,  more  than  is  proper  for  a  cook  to  do. 
Oh,  sir,  we  has  been  unhappy!  and  for  the  first 
time  we  really  knew  what  we  had  lost  in  our  blessed 
mistress,  and  for  the  first  time  the  children,  poor 
darlings,  found  out  what  it  was  to  be  really  mother 
less.  The  meals  she'd  give  'em,  and  the  way  she'd 
order  them — oh,  dear !  oh,  dear !  it  makes  me  shiver 
to  think  of  it !  " 

"  Yes,  Nurse,"  interrupted  the  Doctor.  "  It  was 
unfortunate  Mrs.  Cameron  arriving  when  I  was  ab 
sent.  I  nave  come  back  now,  however,  and  all  the 
troubles  you  have  just  mentioned  are,  of  course,  at 
an  end.  Still  you  have  not  explained  the  extraor 
dinary  statement  you  made  to  me  when  I  came  into 
the  room.  Why  is  it  that  the  children  have  run 
away  ?  " 

"  I'm  a-coming  to  that,  sir ;  that's,  so  to  speak, 
the  crisis — and  all  brought  about  by  Mrs.  Cameron. 
I  said  that  Miss  Polly  was  kept  in  her  room,  and 
after  the  first  day  no  one  allowed  to  go  near  her. 
Mrs.  Cameron  herself  would  take  her  up  her  meals, 


1U  POLLY. 

and  take  the  tray  away  again,  and  very  little  the 
poor  dear  would  eat,  for  I  often  saw  what  come  out. 
It  would  go  to  your  heart,  sir,  that  it  would,  for  a 
healthier  appetite  than  Miss  Polly's  there  ain't  in 
the  family.  Well,  sir,  Miss  Helen  had  a  letter  from 
you  this  morning,  saying  as  how  you'd  be  back  by 
six  o'clock,  and  after  dinner  she  went  up  to  Miss 
Polly's  door,  and  I  heard  her,  for  I  was  walking 
with  baby  up  and  down  the  passage.  It  was  beauti 
ful  to  hear  the  loving  way  Miss  Helen  spoke, 
Doctor;  she  was  kneeling  down  and  singing  her 
words  through  the  key-hole.  '  Father'll  be  home  to 
night,  Polly,'  she  said — '  keep  up  heart,  Poll  dear — 
father'll  be  home  to-night,  and  he'll  make  every 
thing  happy  again.'  Nothing  could  have  been  more 
tender  than  Miss  Helen's  voice,  it  would  have  moved 
anybody.  But  there  was  never  a  sound  nor  an  an 
swer  from  inside  the  room,  and  just  then  Miss  Fire 
fly  and  Master  Bunny  came  rushing  up  the  stairs  as 
if  they  were  half  mad.  '  Oh  Nell,  come,  come  quick ! ' 
they  said,  '  there's  the  step-ladder  outside  Poll's  win 
dow,  and  a  bit  of  rope  and  two  towels  fastened  to 
gether  hanging  to  the  sill,  and  the  window  is  wide 
open ! '  Miss  Helen  ran  down-stairs  with  a  face 
like  a  sheet,  and  by  and  by  Alice  came  up  and  told 
me  the  rest.  Master  Bunny  got  up  on  the  step- 
ladder,  and  by  means  of  the  rope  and  the  bedroom 
towels  managed  to  climb  on  to  the  window-sill,  and 
then  he  saw  there  wasn't  ever  a  Miss  Polly  at  all  in 
the  room.  Oh,  poor  dear !  he  might  have  broke  his 
own  neck  searching  for  her,  but — well,  there's  a 
Providence  over  children,  and  no  mistake.  Miss 
Polly  had  run  away,  that  was  plain.  When  Miss 
Helen  heard  it,  and  knew  that  it  was  true,  she 
turned  to  Alice  with  her  face  like  a  bit  of  chalk,  and 
tears  in  her  eyes,  and, « Alice,'  she  said,'  '  I'm  going 


WHERE  ARE  THE  CHILDREN  ?  H5 

to  look  for  Polly.  You  can  tell  Nurse  I'll  be  back 
when  I  have  found  Polly.'  With  that  she  walked 
down  the  path  as  fast  as  she  could,  and  every  one 
of  the  others  followed  her.  Alice  watched  them 
getting  over  the  little  turnstile,  and  down  by  the 
broad  meadow,  then  she  came  up  and  let  me  know. 
I  blamed  her  for  not  coming  sooner,  but — what's  the 
matter,  Doctor?" 

"  I  am  going  to  find  Polly  and  the  others,"  said 
Dr.  May  bright.  "It  was  a  pity  no  older  person  in 
the  house  followed  them  ;  but  so  many  can  scarcely 
come  to  harm.  It  is  Polly  I  am  anxious  about — 
they  cannot  have  discovered  her,  or  they  would  be 
home  before  now." 

The  Doctor  left  the  nursery,  ran  down-stairs,  put 
on  his  hat,  and  went  out.  As  he  did  so,  he  heard 
the  dubious,  questioning  kind  of  cough  which  Mrs. 
Cameron  was  so  fond  of  making — this  cough  was 
accompanied  by  Scorpion's  angry  snarling  little 
bark.  The  Doctor  prayed  inwardly  for  patience  as 
he  hurried  down  the  avenue  in  search  of  his  family. 
He  was  absolutely  at  a  loss  where  to  seek  them. 

"  The  broad  meadow  only  leads  to  the  high-road," 
he  said  to  himself,  "  and  the  high-road  has  many 
twists  and  turns.  Surely  the  children  cannot  have 
ventured  on  the  moor;  surely  Polly  cannot  have 
been  mad  enough  to  try  to  hide  herself  there." 

"  It  was  a  starlight  night,  and  the  Doctor  walked 
quickly. 

"  I  don't  know  where  they  are.  I  must  simply 
let  instinct  guide  me,"  he  said  to  himself  ;  and  after 
walking  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour  instinct  did 
direct  him  to  where,  seated  on  a  little  patch  of  green 
turf  at  one  side  of  the  king's  highway,  were  three 
solitary  and  disreputable-looking  little  figures. 

"  Father !  "  came  convulsively  from  three   little 


116  POLLY. 

parched  throats  ;  there  was  a  volume  in  the  cry,  a 
tone  of  rapture,  of  longing,  of  pain,  which  was  al 
most  indescribable.  "  Father's  come  back  again, 
it's  all  right  now,"  sobbed  Firefly,  and  immediately 
the  boys  and  the  little  girl  had  cuddled  up  to  him 
and  were  kissing  him,  each  boy  taking  possession  of 
a  hand,  and  Firefly  clasping  her  arms  round  his 
neck. 

"I  know  all  about  it,  children,"  explained  the 
Doctor.  "  But  tell  me  quickly,  where  are  the 
others  ?  where  is  Polly  ?  " 

"Oh,  you  darling  father!"  said  Firefly,  "you 
darling,  you  darling !  let  me  kiss  you  once  again. 
There,  now  I'm  happy  ! " 

"  But  tell  me  where  the  others  are,  dear  child." 

"  Just  a  little  way  off.  We  did  get  so  tired,  and 
Helen  said  that  Polly  must  have  gone  on  the  moor, 
aud  she  said  she  must  and  would  follow  her." 

"  We  were  so  tired,"  said  Bunny. 

"  And  there  was  a  great  nail  running  into  my 
heel,"  explained  Bob. 

"  So  we  sat  down  here,  and  tried  to  pretend  we 
were  gipsies,"  continued  Firefly.  "  The  moon  was 
shining,  and  that  was  a  little  wee  bit  of  comfort,  but 
we  didn't  like  it  much.  Father,  it  isn't  much  fun 
being  a  gipsy,  is  it  ?  " 

"  No,  dear ;  but  go  on.  How  long  is  it  since  you 
parted  from  the  others  ?  " 

"Half  an  hour;  but  it's  all  right.  Bunny,  you 
can  tell  that  part." 

Bunny  puffed  himself  out,  and  tried  to  speak  in 
his  most  important  manner. 

"  Nell  gave'  me  the  dog- whistle,"  he  said,  "  and  I 
was  to  whistle  it  if  it  was  real  necessary,  not  by  no 
means  else.  I  didn't  fancy  that  I  was  a  gipsy.  I 
thought  perhaps  I  was  the  driver  of  a  fly,  and  that 


WHERE  ARE  THE  CHILDREN  ?  117 

when  I  blew  my  whistle  Nell  would  be  like  another 
driver  coming  to  me.  That's  what  I  thought,"  con 
cluded  Bunny.  But  as  his  metaphors  were  always 
extremely  mixed  and  confusing,  no  one  listened  to 
him. 

"  You  have  a  whistle  ?  "  said  the  Doctor.  "  Give 
it  to  me.  This  is  a  very  dangerous  thing  that  you 
have  done,  children.  Now,  let  me  see  how  far  I  can 
make  the  sound  go.  Oh,  that  thing !  I  can  make 
a  better  whistle  than  that  with  my  hand." 

He  did  so,  making  the  moor,  on  the  borders  of 
which  they  stood,  resound  with  a  long,  shrill,  power 
ful  blast.  Presently  faint  sounds  came  back  in  an 
swer,  and  in  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Helen  and 
her  three  sisters,  very  tired  and  faint,  and  loitering 
in  their  steps,  came  slowly  into  view. 

Oh  yes ;  they  were  all  so  glad  to  see  father,  but 
they  had  not  seen  Polly  ;  no,  not  a  trace  nor  sound 
could  be  discovered  to  lead  to  Polly's  whereabouts. 

"  But  she  must  not  spend  the  night  alone  on  the 
moor,"  said  the  Doctor.  "No,  that  cannot  be. 
Children,  you  must  all  go  home  directly.  On  your 
way  past  the  lodge,  Helen,  desire  Simkins  and 
George  to  come  with  lanterns  to  this  place.  They 
are  to  wait  for  me  here,  and  when  they  whistle  I 
will  answer  them.  After  they  have  waited  here  for 
half  an  hour,  and  I  do  not  whistle  back,  they  are  to 
begin  to  search  the  moor  on  their  own  account. 
Now  go  home  as  fast  as  you  can,  my  dears.  I  will 
return  when  I  have  found  Polly,  not  before." 

The  moon  was  very  brilliant  that  night,  and 
Helen's  wistful  face,  as  she  looked  full  at  her  father, 
caused  him  to  bend  suddenly  and  kiss  her.  "  You 
are  my  brave  child,  Nell.  Be  the  bravest  of  all 
by  taking  the  others  home  now.  Home,  children ; 


118  POLLY. 

and  to  bed  at  once,  remember.     No  visiting  of  the 
drawing-room  for  any  of  you  to-night." 

The  Doctor  smiled,  and  kissed  his  hand,  and  a 
very  disconsolate  little  party  turned  in  the  direction 
of  Sleepy  Hollow. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  WIFE  OF  MICAH  JONES. 

IF  ever  there  was  a  girl  whose  mind  was  in  a 
confused  and  complex  state,  that  girl  was  Polly 
Maybright.  Suddenly  into  her  life  of  sunshine  and 
ease  and  petting,  into  her  days  of  love  and  indulg 
ence,  came  the  cold  shadow  of  would-be  justice. 
Polly  had  done  wrong,  and  a  very  stern  judge,  in 
the  shape  of  Aunt  Maria  Cameron,  was  punishing 
her. 

Polly  had  often  been  naughty  in  her  life ;  she 
was  an  independent,  quick-tempered  child ;  she  had 
determination,  and  heaps  of  courage,  but  she  was 
always  supposed  to  want  ballast.  It  was  the  fashion 
in  the  house  to  be  a  little  more  lenient  to  Polly's 
misdemeanors  than  to  any  one  else's.  When  a 
very  little  child,  Nurse  had  excused  ungovernable 
fits  of  rage  with  the  injudicious  words,  "  Poor  lamb, 
she  can't  help  herself ! "  The  sisters,  older  or 
younger,  yielded  to  Polly,  partly  because  of  a  cer 
tain  fascination  which  she  exercised  over  them,  for 
she  was  extremely  brilliant  and  quick  of  idea,  and 
partly  because  they  did  not  want  her  to  get  into 
what  they  called  her  tantrums.  Father,  too,  made 
a  pet  of  her,  and  perhaps  slightly  spoiled  her,  but 
during  mother's  lifetime  all  this  did  not  greatly 
matter,  for  mother  guided  the  imperious,  impetuous, 


THE  WIFE  OF  MICAH  JONES.  119 

self-willed  child,  with  the  exquisite  tact  of  love. 
During  mother's  lifetime,  when  Polly  was  naughty, 
she  quickly  became  good  again ;  now  matters  were 
very  different. 

Mrs.  Cameron  was  a  woman  who,  with  excellent 
qualities,  and  she  had  many,  had  not  a  scrap  of  the 
"  mother-feel  "  within  her.  There  are  women  who 
never  called  a  child  their  own  who  are  full  of  it,  but 
Mrs.  Cameron  was  not  one  of  these.  Her  rule  with 
regard  to  the  management  of  young  people  was 
simple  and  severe — she  saw  no  difference  between 
one  child  and  another.  "  Spare  the  rod  and  spoil 
the  child,"  applied  equally  in  every  case,  so  now, 
constituting  herself  Polly's  rightful  guardian  in  the 
absence  of  her  father,  she  made  up  her  mind  on  no 
account  to  spare  the  rod.  Until  Polly  humbled 
herself  to  the  very  dust  she  should  go  unforgiven. 
Solitary  confinement  was  a  most  safe  and  admirable 
method  of  correction.  Therefore  unrepentant  Polly 
remained  in  her  room. 

The  effects  as  far  as  the  culprit  was  concerned 
were  not  encouraging.  In  the  first  place  she  would 
not  acknowledge  Mrs.  Cameron's  right  to  interfere 
in  her  life  ;  in  the  next  harshness  had  a  very  harden 
ing  effect  on  her. 

It  was  dull  in  Polly's  room.  The  naughtiest  child 
cannot  cry  all  the  time,  nor  sulk  when  left  quite  to 
herself,  and  although,  whenever  Mrs.  Cameron  ap 
peared  on  the  scene,  the  sulks  and  temper  both  re 
turned  in  full  force,  Polly  spent  many  long  and 
miserable  hours  perfectly  distracted  with  the  long 
ing  to  find  something  to  do.  The  only  books  in  the 
room  were  Helen's  little  Bible,  a  copy  of  "  Robinson 
Crusoe,"  and  the  Dictionary.  For  obvious  reasons 
Polly  did  not  care  to  read  the  Bible  at  present. 
•*  Robinson  Crusoe  "  she  knew  already  by  heart,  but 


120  POLLY. 

found  it  slightly  amusing  trying  to  make  something 
of  the  sentences  read  backwards.  The  Dictionary 
was  her  final  resource,  and  she  managed  to  pass 
many  tedious  hours  working  straight  through  it 
page  after  page.  She  had  got  as  far  as  M.,  and  life 
was  becoming  insupportable,  when  about  the  middle 
of  the  day,  on  Monday,  she  was  startled  by  a  cau 
tious  and  stealthy  noise,  and  also  by  a  shadow  falling 
directly  on  her  page.  She  looked  up  quickly ;  there 
was  the  round  and  radiant  face  of  Maggie  glued  to 
the  outside  of  the  window,  while  her  voice  came  in, 
cautious  but  piercing,  "Open  the  window  quick, 
Miss  Polly,  I'm  a- falling  down." 

Polly  flew  to  the  rescue,  and  in  a  moment  Maggie 
was  standing  in  the  room.  In  her  delight  at  seeing 
a  more  genial  face  than  Aunt  Maria's,  Polly  flung 
her  arms  round  Maggie  and  kissed  her. 

"  How  good  of  you  to  come  ! "  she  exclaimed. 
"And  you  must  not  go  away  again.  Where  will 
you  hide  when  Aunt  Maria  comes  to  visit  me? 
Under  the  bed,  or  in  this  cupboard  ?  " 

"  Not  in  neither  place,"  responded  Maggie,  who 
was  still  gasping  and  breathless,  and  whose  brown 
winsey  frock  showed  a  disastrous  tear  from  hem  to 
waist. 

"  Not  in  neither  place,"  she  proceeded,  "  for  I 
couldn't  a-abear  it  any  longer,  and  you  ain't  going  to 
stay  in  this  room  no  longer,  Miss  Polly ;  I  nearly 
brained  myself  a-clinging  on  to  the  honeysuckle, 
and  the  ivy-roots,  but  here  I  be,  and  now  we'll  both 
go  down  the  ladder  and  run  away." 

"  Run  away — oh !  "  said  Polly,  clasping  her  hands, 
and  a  great  flood  of  rose-color  lighting  up  her  face. 

She  ran  to  the  window.  The  housemaid's  step- 
ladder  stood  below,  but  Polly's  window  was  two  or 
three  feet  above, 


THE  WIFE  OF  MICAH  JONES.  121 

"  We'll  manage  with  a  bit  of  rope  and  the  bed 
room  towels,"  said  Maggie,  eagerly.  "  It's  nothing 
at  all,  getting  down — it's  what  I  did  was  the  danger. 
Now,  be  quick,  Miss  Polly ;  let's  get  away  while 
they're  at  dinner." 

It  did  not  take  an  instant  for  Polly  to  decide. 
Between  the  delights  of  roaming  the  country  with 
Maggie,  and  the  pleasure  of  continuing  to  read 
through  the  M's  in  "Webster's  Dictionary,  there 
could  be  little  choice.  On  the  side  of  liberty  and 
freedom  alone  could  the  balance  fall.  The  bed 
room  towels  were  quickly  tied  on  to  the  old  rope, 
the  rope  secured  firmly  inside  the  window-sill,  and 
the  two  girls  let  themselves  swing  lightly  on  to  the 
step-ladder.  They  were  both  agile,  and  the  descent 
did  not  terrify  them  in  the  least.  When  they 
reached  the  ground  they  took  each  other's  hands, 
and  looked  into  each  other's  faces. 

"You  might  have  thought  of  bringing  a  hat,  Miss 
Polly." 

"  Oh  never  mind,  Maggie.  You  do  look  shabby ; 
your  frock  is  torn  right  open." 

"  Well,  Miss,  I  got  it  a-coming  to  save  you.  Miss 
Polly,  Mrs.  Power's  back  in  the  kitchen.  Hadn't  we 
better  run  ?  We'll  talk  afterwards." 

So  they  did,  not  meeting  any  one,  for  Mrs. 
Cameron  and  the  children  were  all  at  dinner,  and 
the  servants  were  also  in  the  house.  They  ran 
through  the  kitchen  garden,  vaulted  over  the  sunken 
fence,  and  found  themselves  in  the  little  sheltered 
green  lane,  where  Polly  had  lain  on  her  face  and 
hands  and  caught  the  thrushes  on  the  July  day  when 
her  mother  died.  She  stood  almost  in  the  same  spot 
now,  but  her  mind  was  in  too  great  a  whirl,  and 
her  feelings  too  excited,  to  cast  back  any  glances  of 
memory  just  then. 


122  POLLY. 

tt  Well,  Maggie,"  she  said,  pulling  up  short,  "  now, 
what  are  your  plans?  Where  are  we  going  to? 
Where  are  we  to  hide  ?  " 

"Eh?"  said  Maggie. 

She  had  evidently  come  to  the  end  of  her  re 
sources,  and  the  intelligent  light  suddenly  left  her 
face. 

«I  didn't  think  o'  that,"  she  said:  ''there's 
mother's." 

"  No,  that  wouldn't  do,"  interrupted  Polly.  "  Your 
mother  has  only  two  rooms.  I  couldn't  hide  long  in 
her  house ;  and  besides,  she  is  poor,  I  would  not 
put  myself  on  her  for  anything.  I'll  tell  you  what, 
Maggie,  we'll  go  across  Peg-Top  Moor,  and  make 
straight  for  the  old  hut  by  the  belt  of  fir-trees.  You 
know  it,  we  had  a  picnic  there  once,  and  I  made  up  a 
story  of  hermits  living  in  the  hut.  Well,  you  and  I 
will  be  the  hermits." 

•'  But  what  are  we  to  eat  ?  "  said  Maggie,  whose 
ideas  were  all  practical,  and  her  appetite  capacious. 

Polly's  bright  eyes,  however,  were  dancing,  and 
her  whole  face  was  radiant.  The  delight  of  being  a 
real  hermit,  and  living  in  a  real  hut,  far  surpassed 
any  desire  for  food. 

"  We'll  eat  berries  from  the  trees,"  she  said,  "  and 
we'll  drink  water  from  the  spring.  I  know  there's  a 
spring  of  delicious  water  not  far  from  the  hut.  Oh ! 
come  along,  Maggie,  do ;  this  is  delightful ! " 

An  old  pony,  who  went  in  the  family  by  the 
stately  name  of  Sultan,  had  been  wont  to  help  the 
children  in  their  long  rambles  over  the  moor.  They 
were  never  allowed  to  wander  far  alone,  and  had  not 
made  one  expedition  since  their  mother's  death.  It 
was  really  two  years  since  Polly  had  been  to  the  hut 
at  the  far  end  of  Peg-Top  Moor.  This  moor  was  par 
ticularly  lonely,  it  was  interspersed  at  intervals  with 


THE  WIFE  OF  MICAH  JONES.  123 

thickets  of  rank  undergrowth  and  belts  of  trees,  and 
was  much  frequented  on  that  account  by  gipsies  and 
other  lawless  people.  Polly,  who  went  last  over  the 
moor,  carried  the  greater  part  of  the  way  on  Sultan's 
friendly  back,  had  very  little  idea  how  far  the  dis 
tance  was.  It  was  September  now,  but  the  sun  shone 
on  the  heather  and  fern  with  great  power,  and  as 
Polly  had  no  hat  on  her  head,  having  refused  to  take 
Maggie's  from  her,  she  was  glad  to  take  shelter  under 
friendly  trees  whenever  they  came  across  her  path. 

At  first  the  little  girls  walked  very  quickly,  for 
they  were  afraid  of  being  overtaken  and  brought 
back ;  but  after  a  time  their  steps  grew  slow,  their 
movement  decidedly  languid,  and  Maggie  at  least 
began  to  feel  that  berries  from  the  trees  and  water 
from  the  spring,  particularly  when  neither  was  to 
be  found  anywhere,  was  by  no  means  a  substantial 
or  agreeable  diet  to  dwell  upon. 

"  I  don't  think  I  like  being  a  hermit,"  she  began. 
"  I  don't  know  nought  what  it  means,  but  I  fancy  it 
must  be  very  thinning  and  running  down  to  the  con- 
stitootion." 

Polly  looked  at  her,  and  burst  out  laughing. 

"  It  is,"  she  said,  "  that's  what  the  life  was  meant 
for,  to  subdue  the  flesh  hi  all  possible  ways ;  you'll 
get  as  thin  as  a  whipping-post,  Mag." 

"  I  don't  like  it,"  retorted  Maggie.  "  May -be  we'd 
best  be  returning  home,  now,  Miss  Polly." 

Polly's  eyes  flashed.  She  caught  Maggie  by  the 
shoulder. 

«  You  are  a  mean  girl,"  she  said.  "  You  got  me 
into  this  scrape,  and  now  you  mean  to  desert  me.  I 
was  sitting  quietly  in  my  room,  reading  through  the 
M's  in  Webster's  Dictionary,  and  you  came  and 
asked  me  to  run  away ;  it  was  your  doing,  Maggie, 
you  know  that." 


124  POLLY. 

**  Yes,  Miss !  yes,  Miss !  w 

Maggie  began  to  sob.  "  But  I  never,  never  thought 
it  meant  berries  and  spring- water ;  no,  that  I  didn't. 
Oh,  I  be  so  hungry  !  " 

At  this  moment  all  angry  recriminations  were 
frozen  on  the  lips  of  both  little  girls,  for  rising  sud 
denly,  almost  as  it  seemed  from  the  ground  at  their 
feet,  appeared  a  gaunt  woman  of  gigantic  make. 

"  May-be  you'll  be  hungrier,"  she  said  in  a  menac 
ing  voice.  "  What  business  have  you  to  go  through 
Deadman's  Copse  without  leave  ?  " 

Maggie  was  much  too  alarmed  to  make  any  reply, 
but  Polly,  after  a  moment  or  two  of  startled  silence, 
came  boldly  to  the  rescue. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  she  said.  "  Maggie  and  I  know 
nothing  of  Deadman's  Copse ;  this  is  a  wood,  and 
we  are  going  through  it ;  we  have  got  business  on 
the  other  side  of  Peg-Top  Moor." 

"  That's  as  it  may  be,"  replied  the  woman,  "  this 
wood  belongs  to  me  and  to  my  sons,  Nathaniel  and 
Patrick,  and  to  our  dogs  Cinder  and  Flinder,  and 
those  what  goes  through  Deadman's  Copse  must  pay 
toll  to  me,  the  wife  of  Micah  Jones.  My  husband 
is  dead,  and  he  left  the  wood  to  me,  and  them  as  go 
through  it  must  pay  toll." 

The  woman's  voice  was  very  menacing ;  she  was 
of  enormous  size,  and  going  up  to  the  little  girls, 
attempted  to  place  one  of  her  brawny  arms  on 
Polly's  shoulder.  But  Polly  with  all  her  faults 
possessed  a  great  deal  of  courage  ;  her  eyes  flashed, 
and  she  sprang  aside  from  the  woman's  touch. 

"You  are  talking  nonsense,"  she  said.  "Father 
has  over  and  over  told  me  that  the  moor  belongs  to 
the  Queen,  so  this  little  bit  couldn't  have  been  given 
to  your  husband,  Micah  Jones,  and  we  are  just  as 


THE  WIFE  OF  MIC  AH  JONES.  125 

free  to  walk  here  as  you  are.  Come  on,  Maggie,  we'll 
be  late  for  our  business  if  we  idle  any  longer." 

But  the  woman  with  a  loud  and  angry  word  de 
tained  her. 

"  Highty-tighty  !  "  she  said.  « Here's  spirit  for 
you,  and  who  may  your  respected  papa  be,  my  dear  ? 
He  seems  to  be  mighty  wise.  And  the  wife  of  Micab 
Jones  would  much  like  to  know  his  name  " 

"You're  a  very  rude  unpleasant  woman,"  said 
Polly.  "  Don't  hold  me,  I  won't  be  touched  by  you. 
My  father  is  Dr.  Maybright,  of  Sleepy  Hollow,  you 
must  know  his  name  quite  well." 

The  wife  of  Micah  Jones  dropped  a  supercilious 
curtsey. 

"  Will  you  tell  Dr.  Maybright,  my  pretty  little 
dear,"  she  said, "  that  in  these  parts  might  is  right, 
and  that  when  the  Queen  wants  Deadman's  Copse, 
she  can  come  and  have  a  talk  with  me,  and  my  two 
sons,  and  the  dogs,  Cinder  and  Flinder.  But,  there, 
what  am  I  idling  for  with  a  chit  like  you  ?  You  and 
that  other  girl  there  have  got  to  pay  toll.  You  have 
both  of  you  got  to  give  me  your  clothes.  There's 
no  way  out  of  it,  so  you  needn't  think  to  try  words, 
nor  blarney,  nor  nothing  else  with  me.  I  have  a  sack 
dress  each  for  you,  and  what  you  have  on  is  mine. 
That's  the  toll,  you  will  have  to  pay  it.  My  hut 
is  just  beyond  at  the  other  side  of  the  wood,  my  sons 
are  away,  but  Cinder  and  Flinder  will  take  care  of 
you  until  I  come  back,  at  nine  o'clock.  Here,  follow 
me,  we're  close  to  the  hut.  No  words,  or  it  will  be 
the  worse  for  you.  On  in  front,  the  two  of  you,  or 
you,  little  Miss,"  shaking  her  hand  angrily  at  Polly, 
"  will  know  what  it  means  to  bandy  words  with  the 
wife  of  Micah  Jones." 

The  woman's  face  became  now  very  fierce  and 
terrible,  and  even  Polly  was  sufficiently  impressed 


126  POLLY. 

to  walk  quietly  before  her,  clutching  hold  of  poor 
terrified  Maggie's  hand. 

The  hut  to  which  the  woman  took  the  little  girls 
was  the  very  hermit's  hut  to  which  their  own  steps 
had  been  bent.  It  was  a  very  dirty  place,  consisting 
of  one  room,  which  was  now  filled  with  smoke  from 
a  fire  made  of  broken  fagots,  fir-cones,  and  with 
ered  fern.  Two  ugly  lean-looking  dogs  guarded  the 
entrance  to  the  hut.  When  they  saw  the  woman 
coming,  they  jumped  up  and  began  to  bark  savagely ; 
poor  Maggie  began  to  scream,  and  Polly  for  the  first 
time  discovered  that  there  could  be  a  worse  state  of 
things  than  solitary  confinement  in  her  room,  with 
Webster's  Dictionary  for  company. 

"  Sit  you  there,"  said  the  woman,  pushing  the 
kittle  girls  into  the  hut.  "  I'll  be  back  at  nine  o'clock. 
I'm  off  now  on  some  business  of  my  own.  When  I 
come  back  I'll  take  your  clothes,  and  give  you  a  sack 
each  to  wear.  Cinder  and  Flinder  will  take  care  of 
you  ;  they're  very  savage  dogs,  and  can  bite  awful, 
but  they  won't  touch  you  if  you  sit  very  quiet,  and 
don't  attempt  to  run  away." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

DISTRESSED     HEROINES. 

IF  ever  poor  little  girls  found  themselves  in  a 
plight  it  was  the  two  who  now  huddled  close  to 
gether  in  the  hermit's  hut.  Even  Polly  was  thor 
oughly  frightened,  and  as  to  Maggie,  nothing  but 
the  angry  growls  of  Cinder  restrained  the  violence 
of  her  sobs. 

"  Oh,  ain't  a  hermit's  life  awful !  "  she  whispered 
more  than  once  to  her  companion.  "  Oh !  Miss  Polly, 


HEROINES. 

why  did  you  speak  of  Peg- Top  Moor,  and  the  her 
mit's  hut,  and  berries  and  water  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  silly,  Maggie,"  said  Polly,  "  I  did  not 
mention  the  wife  of  Micah  Jones,  nor  these  dreadful 
dogs.  This  is  a  misfortune,  and  we  must  bear  it  as 
best  we  can.  Have  you  none  of  the  spirit  of  a  hero 
ine  in  you,  Maggie  ;  don't  you  know  that  in  all  the 
story-books,  when  the  heroines  run  away,  they  come 
to  dreadful  grief  ?  If  we  look  at  it  in  that  light,  and 
think  of  ourselves  as  distressed  heroines,  it  will  help 
us  to  bear  up.  Indeed,"  continued  Polly,  "  if  it 
wasn't  for  my  having  been  naughty  a  few  days  ago, 
and  perhaps  father  coming  back  to  night,  I  think 

I'd  enjoy  this — I  would  really.  As  it  is- "  Plere 

the  brave  little  voice  broke  off  into  a  decided  quaver. 
The  night  was  falling,  the  stars  were  coming  out  in 
the  sky,  and  Polly,  standing  in  the  door  of  the  hut, 
with  her  arm  thrown  protectingly  round  Maggie's 
neck,  found  a  great  rush  of  loneliness  come  over  her. 

During  those  weary  days  spent  in  her  bedroom, 
repentance,  even  in  the  most  transient  guise,  had 
scarcely  come  near  her.  She  was  too  much  oppressed 
with  a  sense  of  injustice  done  to  herself  to  be  sorry 
about  the  feast  in  the  attic.  In  short,  all  her  time 
was  spent  in  blaming  Aunt  Maria. 

Now  with  the  lonely  feeling  came  a  great  soreness 
of  heart,  and  an  intense  and  painful  longing  for  her 
mother.  Those  fits  of  longing  which  came  to  Polly 
now  and  then  heralded  in,  as  a  rule,  a  tempest  of  grief. 
Wherever  she  was  she  would  fling  herself  on  the 
ground,  and  give  way  to  most  passionate  weeping. 
Her  eyes  swam  in  tears  now,  she  trembled  slightly, 
but  controlled  herself.  On  Maggie's  accoumVit  would 
never  do  for  her  to  give  way.  The  ugly  dogs  came 
up  and  sniffed  at  her  hands,  and  smeit  her  dress. 
Maggie  screamed  when  they  approached  her,  but 


128 

•(  -lly  patted  their  heads.  She  was  not  really  afraid  of 
Uiem,  neither  was  she  greatly  alarmed  at  the  thought 
of  the  wife  of  Micah  Jones.  What  oppressed  her, 
and  brought  that  feeling  of  tightness  to  her  throat, 
and  that  smarting  weight  of  tears  to  her  eyes,  were 
the  great  multitude  of  stars  in  the  dark-blue  heavens, 
and  the  infinite  and  grand  solitude  of  the  moors 
which  lay  around. 

The  night  grew  darker  ;  poor  Maggie,  worn  out, 
crouched  down  on  the  ground  ;  Polly,  who  had  now 
quite  made  friends  with  Cinder,  sat  by  Maggie's  side, 
and  when  the  poor  hungry  little  girl  fell  asleep,  Polly 
let  her  rest  her  head  in  her  lap.  The  dogs  and  the 
two  children  were  all  collected  in  the  doorway  of  the 
hut,  and  now  Polly  could  look  more  calmly  up  at  the 
stars,  and  the  tears  rolled  silently  down  her  cheeks. 

It  was  in  this  position  that,  at  about  a  quarter  to 
nine,  Dr.  May  bright  found  her.  Some  instinct  seemed 
to  lead  him  to  Peg-top  Moor — a  sudden  recollection 
brought  the  hut  to  his  memory,  a  ringing  voice,  and 
gay  laugh  came  back  to  him.  The  laugh  was  Polly's, 
the  words  were  hers.  "  Oh,  if  there  could  be  a  de 
lightful  thing,  it  would  be  to  live  as  a  hermit  in  the 
hut  at  the  other  side  of  Peg-Top  Moor !  " 

"  The  child  is  there,"  he  said  to  himself.  And 
when  this  thought  came  to  him  he  felt  so  sure  that 
it  was  a  true  and  guiding  thought  that  he  whistled 
for  the  men  who  were  to  help  him  in  the  search,  and 
together  they  went  to  the  hut. 

Cinder  and  Flinder  had  got  accustomed  to  Polly, 
whom  they  rather  liked ;  Maggie  they  barely  toler 
ated  ;  but  the  firm  steps  of  three  strangers  approach 
ing  the  hut  caused  them  to  bristle  up,  to  call  all 
their  canine  ferocity  to  their  aid,  and  to  bark 
furiously. 

But  all  their  show  of  enmity  mattered  nothing  in 


DISTRESSED  HEROINES. 

such  a  supreme  moment  as  this  to  Polly.  No  dogs, 
however  fierce,  should  keep  her  from  the  arms  of 
her  father.  In  an  instant  she  was  there,  cuddling  up 
close  to  him,  while  the  men  he  had  brought  with  him 
took  care  of  Maggie,  and  beat  off  the  angry  dogs. 

"  Father,  there  never  was  any  one  as  naughty  as  I 
have  been  I " 

"  My  darling,  you  have  found  that  out  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes !  and  you  may  punish  me  just 
whatever  way  you  like  best,  only  let  me  kiss  you 
now.  Punish  me,  but  don't  be  angry." 

"  I'm  going  to  take  you  home,"  said  the  Doctor, 
who  feared  mischief  from  Polly's  present  state  of 
strong  excitement.  "  I  expect  you  have  gone  through 
a  fright  and  have  had  some  punishment.  The  min 
ute,  too,  we  find  out  that  we  are  really  naughty, 
our  punishment  begins  as  well  as  our  forgiveness. 
I  shall  very  likely  punish  you,  child,  but  be  satisfied, 
I  forgive  you  freely.  Now  home,  and  to  bed,  and  no 
talk  of  anything  to-night,  except  a  good  supper,  and 
a  long  restful  sleep.  Come,  Polly,  what's  the  matter  ? 
Do  you  object  to  be  carried  ?  " 

"  But  not  in  your  arms,  father.  I  am  so  big  and 
heavy,  it  will  half-kill  you." 

"  You.  are  tall,  but  not  heavy,  you  are  as  light  as 
a  reed.  Listen!  I  forbid  you  to  walk  a  step. 
When  I  am  tired  there  are  two  men  to  help  me. 
Simpkins,  will  you  and  George  give  Maggie  a  hand, 
and  keep  close  to  us.  Now,  we  had  better  aD  get 
home  as  fast  as  possible." 

It  was  more  than  half -past  ten  that  night  before 
Polly  and  the  Doctor  returned  to  Sleepy  Hollow. 
But  what  a  journey  home  she  had  !  how  comforting 
were  the  arms  that  supported  her,  how  restful  was 
the  shoulder,  on  w1;'  ,  now  and  then  in  an  ecstasy 
of  love  and  repent  -  •«%  she  laid  her  tired  headl 


130 

The  stars  were  no  longer  terrible,  far-off,  and  lonely, 
but  near  and  friendly,  like  the  faces  of  well-known 
friends.  The  moor  ceased  to  be  a  great,  vast,  awful 
solitude,  it  smelt  of  heather,  and  was  alive  with  the 
innumerable  sounds  of  happy  living  creatures — and 
best  of  all,  mother  herself  seemed  to  come  back  out 
of  the  infinite,  to  comfort  the  heart  of  the  sorrowful 
child. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

LIMITS. 

"  AND  now,  Maria,  I  want  to  know  what  is  the 
meaning  of  all  this,"  said  the  Doctor. 

It  was  late  that  night,  very  late.  Polly  was  in 
bed,  and  Helen  lay  in  her  little  white  bed  also,  close 
to  Polly's  side,  so  close  that  the  sisters  could  hold 
each  other's  hands.  They  lay  asleep  now,  breathing 
peacefully,  and  the  Doctor  being  satisfied  that  no 
serious  mischief  had  happened  to  any  of  his  family, 
meant  to  have  it  out  with  his  sister-in-law. 

Mrs.  Cameron  was  a  very  brave  woman,  or  at 
least  she  considered  herself  so;  it  was  perfectly 
natural  that  people  should  fear  her,  she  did  not  ob 
ject  to  a  little  wholesome  awe  on  the  part  of  those 
who  looked  up  to  her  and  depended  on  her  words  of 
wisdom.  To  be  afraid  on  her  own  part  was  certainly 
not  her  custom,  and  yet  that  evening,  as  she  sat 
alone  in  the  deserted  old  drawing-room,  and  listened 
to  the  wind  as  it  rose  fitfully  and  moaned  through 
the  belt  of  fir-trees  that  sheltered  the  lawn  ;  as  she 
sat  there,  pretending  to  knit,  but  listening  all  the 
time  for  footsteps  which  did  not  come,  she  did  own 
to  a  feeling  which  she  would  not  describe  as  fear, 


LIMITS.  131 

but  which  certainly  kept  her  from  going  to  bed,  anc 
make  her  feel  somewhat  uncomfortable. 

It  was  about  eleven  o'clock  that  night  when  Dr. 
May  bright  entered  the  drawing-room.  He  was  a  tall 
man  with  a  slight  stoop,  and  his  eyes  looked  some 
what  short-sighted.  To-night,  however,  he  walked 
in  quickly,  holding  himself  erect.  His  eyes,  too,  had 
lost  their  peculiar  expression  of  nearness  of  vision, 
and  Mrs.  Cameron  knew  at  once  that  she  was  in  for 
a  bad  time. 

"  And  now,  Maria,  I  want  to  know  what  is  the 
meaning  of  all  this,"  he  said,  coming  up  close  to  her. 

She  was  standing,  having  gathered  up  her  knitting 
preparatory  to  retiring. 

"  I  don't  understand  you,  Andrew,"  she  answered, 
in  a  some  what  complaining,  but  also  slightly  alarmed 
voice.  "  I  think  it  is  I  who  have  to  ask  for  an  ex 
planation.  How  is  it  that  I  have  been  left  alone 
this  entire  evening  ?  I  had  much  to  say  to  you — I 
came  here  on  purpose,  and  yet  you  left  me  to  myself 
all  these  hours." 

"  Sit  down,  Maria,"  said  the  Doctor,  more  gently. 
"  I  can  give  you  as  much  time  as  you  can  desire  now, 
and  as  you  will  be  leaving  in  the  morning  it  is  as 
well  that  we  should  have  our  talk  out  to-night." 

Mrs.  Cameron's  face  became  now  really  crimson 
with  anger. 

"  You  can  say  words  like  that  to  me  ?  "  she  said — 
"  your  wife's  sister." 

"My  dear  wife's  half-sister,  and  until  now  my 
very  good  friend,"  retorted  the  Doctor.  "  But,  how 
ever  well  you  have  meant  it,  you  have  sown  dissen 
sion  and  unhappiness  in  the  midst  of  a  number  of 
motherless  children,  and  for  the  present,"*  at  least,  for 
all  parties,  I  must  ask  you,  Mafia,  to  return  to  Bath." 

Mrs.   Cameron  sank  now  plump  down  into  her 


132  POLLY. 

chair.  She  was  too  deeply  offended  for  a  moment 
to  speak.  Then  she  said,  shortly— 

"  I  will  certainly  return,  but  from  this  moment  I 
wash  my  hands  of  you  all." 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  I  trust  another 
time  you  will  come  to  me  as  my  welcome  and  invited 
guest.  You  see,  Maria" — here  his  eyes  twinkled 
with  that  sly  humor  which  characterized  him — "  it 
was  a  mistake — it  always  is  a  mistake  to  take  the 
full  reins  of  government  in  any  house  uninvited." 

tt  But,  Andrew,  you  were  making  such  a  fool  of 
yourself.  After  that  letter  of  yours  I  felt  almost 
hopeless,  so  for  poor  Helen's  sake  I  came,  at  great 
personal  inconvenience.  Your  home  is  most  dreary, 
the  surroundings  appalling  in  their  solitude.  No 
wonder  Helen  died !  Andrew,  I  thought  it  but 
right  to  do  my  best  for  those  poor  children.  I  came, 
the  house  was  in  a  state  of  riot,  you  have  not  an  idea 
what  Polly's  conduct  was.  Disrespectful,  insolent, 
impertinent.  I  consider  her  an  almost  wicked  girl." 

"  Stop,"  said  the  Doctor.    "  We  are  not  going  to 

discuss  Polly.     She  behaved  badly,  I  grant.     But  I 

think,  Maria,  when  you  locked  her  up  in  her  room, 

and  forbade  Helen  to  go  to  her,  and  treated  her 

without  a  spark  of  affection  or  a  vestige  of  sympathy ; 

>n  you  kept  up  this  line  of  conduct  for  four  long 

.5,  you  yourself  in  God's  sight  were  not  blameless. 

.1  at  least  forgot  that  you  too  were  once  fourteen, 

perhaps  you  never  were  ;  no,  I  am  sure  you  never 
were  what  that  child  is  with  all  her  faults — noble." 

"  That  is  enough,  Andrew,  we  will,  as  you  say, 
vnot  discuss  Polly  further.  I  leave  by  the  first  train 
that  can  take  me  away  \n  the  morning.  You  are 
a  very  much  mistaking  and  ill-judging  man;  you 
were  never  worthy  tc  be  Helen's  husband,  and  I 
Bitterly  grieve  that  her  children  must  be  brought 


LIMITS.  133 

L1P  by  you.    For  Helen's  sake  alone,  I  must  nov 
give  you  one  parting  piece   of  advice,  it  is  t 
When  Miss  Grinsted  comes,  treat  her  with  kindm  > 
and   consideration.      Keep  Miss   Grinsted   in   this 
house  at  all  hazards,  and  there  may  be  a  chance  for 
your  family." 

"  Miss  Grinsted  !  "  said  the  Doctor.  "  Who,  and 
what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Andrew,  when  I  introduce  you  to  such  a  lady  I 
heap  coals  of  fire  on  your  head.  Miss  Grinsted  alone 
can  bring  order  out  of  chaos,  peace  out  of  strife.  In 
short,  when  she  is  established  here,  I  shall  feel  at 
rest  as  far  as  my  dear  sister's  memory  is  concerned." 

"Miss  Grinsted  is  not  going  to  be  established  in 
this  house,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  But  who  is  she  ?  I 
never  heard  of  her  before.  " 

"  She  is  the  lady-housekeeper  and  governess  whom 
I  have  selected  for  you.  She  arrives  at  mid-day  to 
morrow." 

"  From  where  ?  " 

"  How  queerly  you  look  at  me,  Andrew.  Nobody 
would  suppose  you  were  just  delivered  from  a  load 
of  household  care  and  confusion.  Such  a  treasure, 
too,  the  best  of  disciplinarians.  She  is  fifty,  a  little 
angular,  but  capital  at  breaking  in.  What  is  the 
matter,  Andrew  ?  " 

"  What  is  Miss  Grinsted's  address  ?  " 

"Well,  well;  really  your  manners  are  beari  ;•:'•. 
She  is  staying  with  an  invalid  sister  at  Exeter  ;it 
present. " 

"  Will  you  oblige  me  with  the  street  and  number 
of  the  house  ?  " 

•    "  Certainly ;  but  she  can  scarcely  get  here  before 
mid-day  now.     Her  trains  are  all  arranged.  " 

"  The  name  of  the  street  and  number  of  the  house, 
if  you  please,  Maria. " 


134  POLLY. 

«  Vere  Street,  No.  30.  But  she  can't  be  here  be 
fore  twelve  or  one  to-morrow,  Andrew." 

"  She  is  never  to  come  here.  I  shall  go  into  the 
village  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  and  send  her 
a  telegram.  She  is  never  to  come  here.  Maria,  you 
made  a  mistake,  you  went  too  far.  If  you  and  I  are 
to  speak  to  each  other  in  the  future,  don't  let  it  occur 
again.  Good-night ;  I  will  see  that  you  are  called  in 
good  time  in  the  morning.  " 

It  was  useless  either  to  argue  or  to  fight.  Dr. 
Maybright  had,  as  the  children  sometimes  described 
it,  a  shut-up  look  on  his  face.  No  one  was  ever  yet 
known  to  interfere  seriously  with  the  Doctor  when 
he  wore  that  expression,  and  Aunt  Maria,  with  Scor 
pion  under  her  arm,  hobbled  up-stairs,  tired,  weary 
and  defeated. 

"  I  wash  my  hands  of  him  and  his,"  she  muttered* 
and  the  unhappy  lady  shed  some  bitter  tears  of 
wounded  mortification  and  vanity  as  she  laid  her 
head  on  her  pillow. 

u  I  know  I  was  severe  with  her,"  murmured  the 
Doctor  to  himself,  "  but  there  are  some  women  who 
must  be  put  down  with  a  firm  hand.  Yes,  I  can  bear 
a  great  deal,  but  to  have  Maria  Cameron  punishing 
Polly,  and  establishing  a  housekeeper  and  governess 
of  her  own  choosing  in  this  family  is  beyond  my 
patience.  As  I  said  before,  there  are  limits." 


THE  HIGH  MOUNTAINS.  135 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  HIGH  MOUNTAINS. 

HELEN  and  Polly  slept  late  on  the  following  morn 
ing.  They  were  both  awakened  simultaneously  by 
Nurse,  who,  holding  baby  in  her  arms,  came,  briskly 
into  the  room.  Nurse  was  immediately  followed  by 
Alice  bearing  a  tray  with  an  appetizing  breakfast  for 
both  the  little  girls. 

"  The  Doctor  says  you  are  neither  of  you  to  get 
up  until  you  have  had  a  good  meal,"  said  Nurse. 

"And,  Miss  Polly,  he'd  like  to  have  a  word  with 
you,  darling,  in  his  study  about  eleven  o'clock.  Eh, 
dear,  but  it's  blessed  and  comforting  to  have  the  dear 
man  home  again ;  the  house  feels  like  itself,  and  we 
may  breathe  now." 

"And  it's  blessed  and  comforting  to  have  one  we 
wot  of  away  again,"  retorted  Alice.  "  The  young 
ladies  will  be  pleased,  won't  they,  Nurse  ?  " 

"To  be  sure  they  will.  You  needn't  look  so 
startled,  loveys,  either  of  you.  It's  only  your  aunt 
and  the  dog  what  is  well  quit  of  the  house.  They're 
on  their  road  to  Bath  now,  and  long  may  they  stay 
there." 

At  this  news  Helen  looked  a  little  puzzled,  and 
not  very  joyful,  but  Polly  instantly  sat  up  hi  bed 
and  spoke  in  very  bright  tones. 

"  What  a  darling  father  is !  I'm  as  hungry  as  pos 
sible.  Give  me  my  breakfast,  please,  Alice ;  and  oh, 
Nurse,  mightn't  baby  sit  between  us  for  a  little  in 
bed?" 

"  You  must  support  her  back  well  with  pillows," 


136  POLLY. 

said  Nurse.  "  And  see  as  you  don't  spill  any  coffee 
on  her  white  dress.  Eh  !  then,  isn't  she  the  sweetest 
and  prettiest  lamb  in  all  the  world  ?  " 

The  baby,  whose  little  white  face  had  not  a  tinge 
of  color,  and  whose  very  large  velvety  brown  eyes 
always  wore  a  gentle,  heavenly  calm  about  them, 
smiled  hi  a  slow  way.  When  she  smiled  she  showed 
dimples,  but  she  was  a  wonderfully  grave  baby,  as 
though  she  knew  something  of  the  great  loss  which 
had  accompanied  her  birth. 

"  She  is  lovely,"  said  Polly.  "  It  makes  me  feel  good 
even  to  look  at  her. 

"  Then  be  good,  for  her  sake,  darling,"  said  Nurse, 
suddenly  stooping  and  kissing  the  bright,  vivacious 
girl,  and  then  bestowing  another  and  tenderer  kiss 
on  the  motherless  baby.  "  She's  for  all  the  world 
like  Peace  itself,"  said  Nurse.  "  There  ain't  no  sort 
of  naughtiness  or  crossness  in  her." 

"  Oh,  she  makes  me  feel  good ! "  said  Polly,  hug 
ging  the  little  creature  fondly  to  her  side. 

Two  hours  later  Polly  stood  with  her  father's  arm 
round  her  neck  :  a  slanting  ray  of  sunlight  was  fall 
ing  across  the  old  faded  carpet  in  the  study,  and 
mother's  eyes  smiled  out  of  their  picture  at  Polly 
from  the  wall. 

"You  have  been  punished  enough,"  said  the 
Doctor.  "  I  have  sent  for  you  now  just  to  say  a  word 
or  two.  You  are  a  very  young  climber,  Polly,  but 
if  this  kind  of  thing  is  often  repeated,  you  will  never 
make  any  way." 

"  I  don't  understand  you,  father." 

The  Doctor  patted  Polly's  curly  head 

"  Child,"  he  said,   "  we  have  all  of  us  to  go 
mountains,  and  if  you  choose  a  higher  one,  Wi, 
peaks  nearer  to  the  sky  than  others,  you  have  all 
the  more  need  for  the  necessary  helps  for  ascent." 


THE  HIGH  MOUNTAINS.  137 

u  Father  is  always  delightful  when  he  is  allegori 
cal,"  Polly  had  once  said. 

Now  she  threw  back  her  head,  looked  full  into  his 
dearly- loved  face,  clasped  his  hands  tightly  in  both 
her  own,  and  said  with  tears  filling  her  eyes,  "  I  am 
glad  you  are  going  to  teach  me  through  a  kind  of 
story,  and  I  think  I  know  what  you  mean  by  my 
trying  to  climb  the  highest  mountain.  I  always  did 
long  to  do  whatever  I  did  a  little  better  than  any 
one  else." 

"  Exactly  so,  Polly  ;  go  on  wishing  that.  Still  try 
to  climb  the  highest  mountain,  only  take  with  you 
humility  instead  of  self-confidence,  and  then,  child, 
you  will  succeed,  for  you  will  be  very  glad  to  avail 
yourself  of  the  necessary  helps." 

«  The  helps  ?  What  are  they,  father  ?  I  partly 
know  what  you  mean,  but  I  am  not  sure  that  I  quite 
know." 

"  Oh  yes,  you  quite  know.  You  have  known  ever 
since  you  knelt  at  your  mother's  knee,  and  whispered 
your  prayers  all  the  better  to  God  because  she  was 
listening  too.  But  I  will  explain  myself  by  the  com 
monest  of  illustrations.  A  shepherd  wanted  to  res 
cue  one  of  his  flock  from  a  most  perilous  situation. 
The  straying  sheep  had  come  to  a  ledge  of  rock,  from 
where  it  could  not  move  either  backwards  or  for 
wards.  It  had  climbed  up  thousands  of  feet.  How 
was  the  shepherd  to  get  to  it  ?  There  was  one  way. 
His  friends  went  by  another  road  to  the  top  of  the 
mountain.  From  there  they  threw  down  ropes, 
which  he  bound  firmty  round  him,  and  then  they 
drew  him  slowly  up.  He  reached  the  ledge,  he  res 
cued  the  sheep,  and  it  was  saved.  He  could  have 
done  nothing  without  the  ropes.  So  you,  too,  Polly, 
can  do  nothing  worthy ;  you  can  never  climb  your 
high  mountain  without  the  aid  of  that  prayer  which 


138  POLLY. 

links  you  to  your  Father  in  heaven.  Do  you  under 
stand?" 

"  Yes,  I  understand,"  said  Polly  ;  "  I  see.  I  won't 
housekeep  any  more  for  the  present,  father." 

"  You  had  better  not,  dear ;  you  have  plenty  of 
talent  for  this,  as  well  as  for  anything  else  you  like 
to  undertake,  but  you  lack  experience  now,  and 
discretion.  It  was  just  all  this,  and  that  self-confi 
dence  which  I  alluded  to  just  now,  which  got  my 
little  girl  into  all  this  trouble,  and  caused  Aunt 
Maria  to  think  very  badly  of  her.  Aunt  Maria  has 
gone,  so  we  will  say  nothing  about  her  just  at  pres 
ent.  I  may  be  a  foolish  old  father,  Polly,  but  I  own 
I  have  a  great  desire  to  keep  my  children  to  myself 
just  now.  So  I  shall  give  Sleepy  Hollow  another 
chance  of  doing  without  a  grown-up  housekeeper. 
Your  governesses  and  masters  shall  come  to  teach 
you  as  arranged,  but  Helen  must  be  housekeeper, 
with  Mrs.  Power,  who  is  a  very  managing  person, 
to  help  her.  Helen,  too,  must  have  a  certain  amount 
of  authority  over  you  all,  with  the  power  to  appeal 
to  me  in  any  emergency.  This  you  must  submit  to, 
Polly,  and  I  shall  expect  you  to  do  so  with  a  good 
grace." 

"  Yes,  father." 

"  I  have  acceded  to  your  wishes  in  the  matter  of 
bringing  the  Australian  children  here  for  at  least 
six  months.  So  you  see  you  have  a  good  deal  on 
your  hands ;  and  as  I  have  done  so  at  the  express 
wish  of  Helen  and  yourself,  I  shall  expect  you  both 
to  take  a  good  deal  of  responsibility,  and  to  be  in 
every  sense  of  the  word,  extra  good." 

Polly's  eyes  danced  with  pleasure.  Then  she 
looked  up  into  her  father's  face,  and  something  she 
saw  there  caused  her  to  clasp  her  arms  round  his 
neck,  and  whisper  eagerly  and  impulsively — 


THE  HIGH  MOtfNfAittS, 

"  Father,  dear,  what  Helen  told  me  is  not  true— is 
it?" 

"You  mean  about  my  eyes,  Polly?  So  Helen 
knows,  and  has  spoken  about  it,  poor  girl  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  but  it  isn't  true,  it  can't  be  ?  " 

"  Don't  tremble,  Polly.  I  am  quite  willing  to  tell 
you  how  things  really  are.  I  don't  wish  it  to  be 
spoken  of,  but  it  is  a  relief  to  trust  some  one.  I  saw 
Sir  James  Dawson  when  in  town.  He  is  the  first 
oculist  in  England.  He  told  me  that  my  sight  was 
in  a  precarious  state,  and  that  if  matters  turned  out 
unfavorably  it  is  possible,  nay  probable,  that  I  may 
become  quite  blind.  On  the  other  hand  he  gives  me 
a  prescription  which  he  thinks  and  hopes  will  avert 
the  danger." 

"  What  is  it  ?    Oh !  father,  you  will  surely  try  it  ?  " 

"  If  you  and  the  others  will  help  me." 

"But  what  is  it?" 

Dr.  Maybright  stroked  back  Polly's  curls. 

"  Very  little  anxiety,"  he  said.  "  As  much  rest 
as  possible,  worries  forbidden,  home  peace  and  rest 
largely  insisted  upon.  Now  run  away,  my  dear.  I 
hear  the  tramp  of  my  poor  people.  This  is  their 
morning,  you  remember." 

Polly  kissed  her  father,  and  quietly  left  the  room. 

"  See  if  I'm  not  good  after  that,"  she  murmured. 
"Wild  horses  shouldn't  drag  me  into  naughtiness 
after  what  father  has  just  said." 


PART  II 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  COUPLE   OF  BARBARIANS. 

ALL  the  young  Maybrights,  with  the  exception  of 
the  baby,  were  collected  in  the  morning-room.  It 
was  the  middle  of  October.  The  summer  heat  had 
long  departed,  the  trees  were  shedding  their  leaves 
fast,  the  sky  had  an  appearance  of  coming  wind  and 
showers ;  the  great  stretch  of  moorland  which  could 
be  seen  best  in  winter  when  the  oaks  and  elms  were 
bare,  was  distinctly  visible.  The  moor  had  broad 
shadows  on  it,  also  tracts  of  intense  light;  the 
bracken  was  changing  from  green  to  brown  and 
yellow  color — brilliant  color  was  everywhere.  At 
this  time  of  year  the  moors  in  many  ways  looked 
their  best. 

The  May  bright  children,  however,  were  not  think 
ing  of  the  landscape,  or  the  fast  approach  of  whiter, 
they  were  busily  engaged  chattering  and  consulting 
together.  It  was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  and 
they  knew  that  the  time  left  for  them  to  prepare 
was  short,  consequently  their  busy  fingers  worked 
as  well  as  their  tongues.  Helen  was  helping  the 
twins  and  the  little  boys  to  make  up  a  wreath  of 
enormous  dimensions,  and  Polly,  as  usual,  was  flit 
ting  about  the  room,  followed  by  her  satellite  Fire 
fly.  As  usual,  too,  Polly  was  first  to  remark  and 
140 


A  COUPLE  OF  BARBARIANS. 

quickest  to  censure.  She  looked  very  much  like  the 
old  Polly ;  no  outward  change  was  in  the  least  vis 
ible,  although  now  she  yielded  a  kind  of  obedience 
to  the  most  gentle  and  unexacting  of  sisters,  and 
although  she  still  vowed  daily  to  herself,  that  she, 
Polly,  wen1!  certainly  climb  the  highest  mountain, 
and  for  ither's  sake  would  be  the  best  of  all  his 
children. 

"  How  slow  you  are,  Nell,"  she  now  exclaimed, 
impatiently  ;  "  and  look  what  a  crooked  '  E  '  you 
have  made  to  tne  end  of '  WELCOME.'  Oh,  don't 
be  so  slow,  boys !  Paul  and  Virginia  will  be  here 
be! ore  we  are  half  ready." 

tt  They  can't  come  before  six  o'clock,"  said  Helen. 
"  We  have  two  hours  yet  left  to  work  in.  Do,  dear, 
pretty  Polly,  find  something  else  to  take  up  your 
time,  and  let  the  twins  and  the  boys  help  me  to 
finish  this  wreath." 

"  Oh,  if  you  don't  want  me,"  said  Polly,  in  a 
slightly  offended  voice.  "  Come  along,  Fly,  we'll  go 
up  and  see  if  Virginia's  room  is  ready,  and  then  we'll 
pay  a  visit  to  our  baby.  You  and  I  won't  stay  where 
we  are  not  wanted.  Come  along." 

Fly  trotted  off  by  her  elder  sister's  side,  a  great 
light  of  contentment  filling  her  big  eyes.  The  two 
scampered  up-stairs,  saw  that  a  cosy  nest  was  all 
ready  for  the  Australian  girl,  while  a  smaller  room 
at  the  other  side  of  the  passage  was  in  equal  readiness 
for  the  boy. 

"  Oh,  what  darling  flowers  !  "  said  Firefly,  running 
up  to  the  dressing-table  in  the  principal  bedroom, 
and  sniffing  at  the  contents  of  a  dainty  blue  jar. 
"  Why,  Polly,  these  buds  must  be  from  your  own 
pet  tea-rose." 

"  Yes,"  said  Polly,  in  a  careless  voice,  "  they  are  ; 
I  picked  them  for  Virginia  this  morning.  I'd  do 


142  POLLY. 

anything  for  Virginia.     I'm  greatly  excited  about 
her  coming." 

"  You  never  saw  her,"  said  Firefly,  in  an  aggrieved 
voice.  "  You  wouldn't  give  me  your  tea-roses.  I 
don't  think  its  nice  of  you  to  be  fonder  of  her  than 
you  are  of  me.  And  Nursie  says  her  name  isn't 
Virginia." 

"  Never  mind,  she's  Virginia  to  me,  and  the  boy  is 
Paul.  Why,  Fly,  what  a  jealous  little  piece  you  are. 
Come  here,  and  sit  on  my  lap.  Of  course  I'm  fond 
of  you,  Fly,  but  I'm  not  excited  about  you.  I  know 
just  the  kind  of  nose  you  have,  and  the  kind  of 
mouth,  and  the  kind  of  big,  scarecrow  eyes,  but  you 
see  I  don't  know  anything  at  all  about  Virginia,  so 
I'm  making  up  stories  about  her,  and  pictures,  all 
day  long.  I  expect  she's  something  of  a  barbarian, 
both  she  and  her  brother,  and  isn't  it  delicious  to 
think  of  having  two  real  live  barbarians  in  the 
house  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Firefly,  in  a  dubious  voice.  "  I 
suppose  if  they  are  real  barbarians,  they  won't  know 
a  bit  how  to  behave,  and  we'll  have  to  teach  them. 
I'll  rather  like  that." 

"  Oh,  you'll  have  to  be  awfully  good,  Fly,  for 
they'll  copy  you  in  every  way ;  no  sulking  or  sitting 
crooked,  or  having  untidy  hair,  or  you'll  have  a 
couple  of  barbarians  just  doing  the  very  same  thing. 
Now,  jump  off  my  lap,  I  want  to  go  to  Nurse,  and 
you  may  come  with  me  as  a  great  treat.  I'm  going 
to  undress  baby.  I  do  it  every  night ;  and  you  may 
see  how  I  manage.  Nurse  says  I'm  very  clever 
about  the  way  I  manage  babies." 

"  Oh,  you're  clever  about  everything,"  said  Fly, 
with  a  prolonged,  deep-drawn  breath.  "  Well, 
Polly,  I  do  hope  one  thing." 

"Yes?" 


A  COtTPLE  OF  BARBARIANS. 

*  I  do  hope  that  the  barbarians  will  be  very,  very 
ugly,  for  after  you've  seen  them  you  won't  be  curious 
any  more,  and  after  you  know  them  there  won't  be 
any  stories  to  make  up,  and  then  you  won't  love 
them  better  than  me." 

"  What  a  silly  you  are,  Fly,"  responded  Polly. 

But  she  gave  her  little  sister's  hand  an  affectionate 
squeeze,  which  satisfied  the  hungry  and  exacting 
heart  of  its  small  owner  for  the  present. 

Meanwhile  the  enormous  wreath  progressed  well 
and  presently  took  up  an  important  position  over 
the  house  doorway.  As  the  daylight  was  getting 
dim,  and  as  it  would,  in  the  estimation  of  the  chil 
dren,  be  the  cruellest  thing  possible  if  the  full  glories 
of  the  wreath  were  not  visible  to  the  eyes  of  the 
strangers  when  they  approached  Sleepy  Hollow, 
lamps  were  cunningly  placed  in  positions  where 
their  full  light  could  fall  on  the  large  "  Welcome," 
which  was  almost  the  unaided  work  of  the  twins 
and  their  small  brothers. 

But  now  six  o'clock  was  drawing  near,  and  Polly 
and  Firefly  joined  the  rest  of  the  children  in  the  hall. 
The  whole  house  was  in  perfect  order ;  an  excellent 
supper  would  be  ready  at  any  moment,  and  there 
was  little  doubt  that  when  the  strangers  did  appear 
they  would  receive  a  most  hearty  welcome. 

"  Wheels  at  last !  "  said  Bunny,  turning  a  somer 
sault  in  the  air. 

"  Hurrah  !  Three  cheers  for  the  barbarians ! " 
sang  out  Firefly. 

"  I  do  hope  Virginia  will  be  beautiful,"  whispered 
Polly,  under  her  breath. 

Helen  went  and  stood  on  the  door-steps.  Polly 
suddenly  raised  a  colored  lamp,  and  waved  it  above 
her  head. 

"Welcome"  smiled  down   from  the  enormous 


POLLY. 

wreath,  and  shone  on  the  features  of  each  Maybright 
as  the  Doctor  opened  the  door  of  the  carriage,  and 
helped  a  tall,  slender  girl,  and  a  little  boy  in  a  black 
velvet  suit,  to  get  out. 

"  Our  travelers  are  very  hungry,  Polly,"  he  said, 
"and — and — very  tired.  Yes,  I  see  you  have  pre 
pared  things  nicely  for  them.  But  first  of  all  they 
must  have  supper,  and  after  that  I  shall  prescribe 
bed.  Welcome,  my  dear  children,  to  Sleepy  Hollow  1 
May  it  be  a  happy  home  to  you  both." 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  girl. 

She  had  a  pale  face,  a  quantity  of  long  light  hair, 
and  dreamy  sleepy  eyes ;  the  boy,  on  the  contrary, 
had  an  alert  and  watchful  expression  ;  he  clung  to 
his  sister,  and  looked  in  her  face  when  she  spoke. 

"Do  tell  us  what  you  are  called,"  said  Polly. 
"  We  are  all  just  dying  to  know.  Oh  !  I  trust,  I  do 
trust  that  you  are  really  Paul  and  Virginia.  How 
perfectly  lovely  it  would  be  if  those  were  your  real 
names." 

The  tall  girl  looked  full  into  Polly's  eyes,  a 
strange  sweet  wistful  light  filled  her  own,  her 
words  came  out  musically. 

"  I  am  Flower,"  she  said,  "  and  this  is  David.  I 
am  thirteen  years  old,  and  David  is  eight.  Father 
sent  us  away  because  after  mother  died  there  was  no 
one  to  take  care  of  us." 

A  sigh  of  intense  interest  and  sympathy  fell  from 
the  lips  of  all  the  young  Maybrights. 

"Come  up-stairs,  Flower;  we  know  quite  well 
how  to  be  sorry  for  you,"  said  Helen. 

She  took  the  strange  girl's  hand,  and  led  her  up 
the  broad  staircase. 

"  I'll  stay  below,"  said  David.  "  I'm  not  the  least 
toed,  and  my  hands  don't  want  washing.  Who's  the 
jolliest  here  ?  Couldn't  we  have  a  game  of  ball  ?  I 


A  COUPLE  OF  BARBARIANS.  145 

haven't  played  ball  since  I  left  Ballarat.  Flower 
wouldn't  let  me.  She  said  I  might  when  I  came 
here.  She  spoke  about  coming  here  all  the  time, 
and  she  always  wanted  to  see  your  mother.  She 
.pried  the  whole  of  last  night  because  your  mother 
was  dead.  Now  has  nobody  got  a  ball,  and  won't 
the  j  oiliest  begin  ?  " 

"  I'll  play  with  you,  David,"  said  Polly.  "  Now 
catch ;  there  !  once,  twice,  thrice.  Aren't  you  starv 
ing  ?  I  want  my  tea,  if  you  don't." 

"  Flower  said  I  wasn't  to  ask  for  anything  to  eat 
now  that  your  mother  is  dead,  responded  David. 
"  She  said  it  wasn't  likely  we'd  stay,  but  that  while 
we  did  I  was  to  be  on  my  good  behavior.  I  hate 
being  on  my  good  behavior ;  but  Flower's  an  awful 
mistress.  Yes,  of  course,  I'm  starving." 

"  Well,  come  in  to  tea,  then,"  said  Polly,  laughing, 
"  Perhaps  you  will  stay,  and  anyhow  we  are  glad  to 
have  you  for  a  little.  Children,  please  don't  stare 
so  hard." 

"  I  don't  mind,"  said  David.  "  They  may  stare 
if  it  pleases  them  ;  I  rather  like  it." 

"  Like  being  stared  at !  "  repeated  Firefly,  whose 
own  sensitive  little  nature  resented  the  most  tran 
sient  glance. 

"  Yes,"  responded  David,  calmly  ;  "It  shows  that 
I'm  admired;  and  I  know  that  I'm  a  very  handsome 
boy."  . 

So  he  was,  with  dark  eyes  like  a  gipsy,  and  a 
splendid  upright  figure  and  bearing.  Far  from  being 
the  barbarian  of  Polly's  imagination,  he  had  some  of 
the  airs  and  graces  of  a  born  aristocrat.  His  calm 
remarks  and  utter  coolness  astonished  the  little 
Maybrights,  who  rather  shrank  away  from  him,  and 
left  him  altogether  to  Polly's  patronage. 

At  this  moment  Helen  and  the  young  Australian 


146  POLLY. 

girl  came  down  together.  David  instantly  trotted 
up  to  his  sister. 

"She  thinks  that  perhaps  we'll  stay,  Flower," 
pointing  with  his  finger  at  Polly,  "  and  in  that  case 
I  needn't  keep  up  my  company  manners,  need  I  ?  " 

"  But  you  must  behave  well,  David,"  responded 
Flower,  "  or  the  English  nation  will  fancy  we  are 
not  civilized." 

She  smiled  in  a  lovely  languid  way  at  her  brother, 
and  looked  round  with  calm  indifference  at  the  boys 
and  girls  who  pressed  close  to  her. 

"  Come  and  have  tea,"  said  Helen. 

She  placed  Flower  at  her  right  hand.  The  Doctor 
took  the  head  of  the  table,  and  the  meal  progressed 
more  or  less  in  silence.  Flower  was  too  lazy  or  too 
delicate  to  eat  much.  David  spent  all  his  time  in 
trying  to  make  Firefly  laugh,  and  in  avoiding  the 
Doctor's  penetrating  glance.  The  Maybrights  were 
too  astonished  at  the  appearance  of  their  guests  to 
feel  thoroughly  at  ease.  Polly  had  a  sensation 
of  things  being  somehow  rather  flat,  and  the  Doctor 
wondered  much  in  his  inward  soul  how  this  new 
experiment  would  work. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  YOUNG    QUEEN. 

IT  did  not  work  well  as  far  as  Polly  was  concerned. 
Whatever  she  was  at  home,  whatever  her  faults  and 
failings,  whatever  her  wild  vagaries,  or  unreasonable 
moods,  she  somehow  or  other  always  managed  to  be 
first.  First  in  play,  first  in  naughtiness,  first  at  her 
lessons,  the  best  musician,  the  best  artist,  the  best 
housekeeper,  the  best  originator  of  sports  and  frolics 


A  YOUNG  QUEEN, 

on  all  occasions,  was  Polly  Maybright.  From  this 
position,  however,  she  was  suddenly  dethroned.  It 
was  quite  impossible  for  Polly  to  be  first  when 
Flower  was  in  the  room. 

Flower  Dalrymple  had  the  ways  and  manners  of 
a  young  queen.  She  was  imperious,  often  ungra 
cious,  seldom  obliging,  but  she  had  a  knack  of  getting 
people  to  think  first  of  her,  of  saying  the  sort  of 
things  which  drew  attention,  and  of  putting  every 
other  little  girl  with  whom  she  came  into  contact 
completely  hi  the  shade. 

In  reality,  Polly  was  a  prettier  girl  than  Flower. 
Her  eyes  were  brighter,  her  features  more  regular. 
But  just  as  much  in  reality  Polly  could  not  hold  a 
candle  to  Flower,  for  she  had  a  sort  of  a  languorous, 
slumberous  grace,  which  exactly  suited  her  name ; 
there  was  a  kind  of  etherealness  about  her,  an  abso 
lutely  out-of-the-common  look,  which  made  people 
glance  at  her  again  and  again,  each  time  to  discover 
how  very  lovely  she  was. 

Flower  was  a  perfect  contrast  to  David,  being  as 
fair  as  he  was  dark.  Her  face  had  a  delicate,  creamy 
shade,  her  eyes  were  large  and  light  blue,  the  lashes 
and  eyebrows  being  only  a  shade  or  two  darker  than 
her  long,  straight,  rather  dull-looking,  yellow  hair. 
She  always  wore  her  hair  straight  down  her  back  ; 
she  was  very  willowy  and  pliant  in  figure,  and  had 
something  of  the  graoe  and  coloring  of  a  daffodil. 

Flower  had  not  been  a  week  in  the  Maybright 
family  before  she  contrived  that  all  the  arrange 
ments  in  the, house  should  be  more  or  less  altered 
to  suit  her  convenience.  She  made  no  apparent 
complaint,  and  never  put  her  wishes  into  words, 
still  she  contrived  to  have  things  done  to  please  her. 
For  instance,  l^ng  before  that  week  was  out,  Polly 
found  herself  Deprived  of  the  seat  she  had  always 


148  POLLY. 

occupied  at  meals  by  her  father's  side.  Flower  liked 
to  sit  near  the  Doctor,  therefore  she  did  so ;  she 
liked  to  slip  her  hand  into  his  between  the  courses, 
and  to  look  into  his  face  with  her  wide-open,  pathetic, 
sweet  eyes.  Flower  could  not  touch  coffee  at  break 
fast,  therefore  by  common  consent  the  whole  family 
adopted  tea.  In  the  morning-room  Flower  estab 
lished  herself  in  mother's  deep  arm-chair,  hitherto 
consecrated  by  all  rights  and  usages  to  Helen.  As 
to  Polly,  she  was  simply  dethroned  from  her  pedes 
tal,  her  wittiest  remarks  fell  flat,  her  raciest  stories 
were  received  with  languid  interest.  What  were 
they  compared  to  the  thrilling  adventures  which 
the  young  Australian  could  tell  when  she  pleased ! 
Not,  indeed,  that  Flower  often  pleased,  she  was  not 
given  to  many  words,  her  nature  was  thoroughly 
indolent  and  selfish,  and  only  for  one  person  would 
she  ever  really  rouse  and  exert  herself.  This  person 
was  David ;  he  worshipped  her,  and  she  loved  him 
as  deeply  as  it  was  in  her  nature  to  love  any  one. 
To  all  appearance,  however,  it  mattered  very  little 
who,  or  how  Flower  loved.  On  all  hands,  every 
one  fell  in  love  with  her.  Even  Polly  resigned  her 
favorite  seat  for  her,  even  Helen  looked  without  pain 
at  mother's*  beloved  chair  when  Flower's  lissome 
figure  filled  it.  The  younger  children  were  for  ever 
offering  flowers  and  fruit  at  her  shrine.  Nurse  de 
clared  her  a  bonny,  winsome  thing,  and,  greatest 
honor  of  all,  allowed  her  to  play  with  little  Pearl, 
the  baby,  for  a  few  minutes,  when  the  inclination 
seized  her.  Before  she  was  a  week  in  the  house, 
not  a  servant  in  the  place  but  would  have  done  any 
thing  for  her,  and  even  the  Doctor  so  far  succumbed 
to  her  charms  as  to  pronounce  her  a  gracious  and 
lovable  creature. 
**  Although  I  can't  make  her  out,"  he  often  said  to 


A  VOUNO  QUEEN, 

himself,  "  I  have  an  odd  instinct  which  tells  me  that 
there  is  the  sleeping  lioness  or  the  wild  cat  hidden 
somewhere  beneath  all  that  languid,  gracious  care 
lessness.  Poor  little  girl !  she  has  managed  to  cap 
tivate  us  all,  but  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  she 
turned  out  more  difficult  and  troublesome  to  manage 
than  the  whole  of  my  seven  daughters  put  together." 

As  Flower  and  David  had  been  sent  from  Aus 
tralia  especially  to  be  under  the  care  and  guidance 
of  Mrs.  Maybright,  the  Doctor  felt  more  and  more 
uncertain  as  to  the  expediency  of  keeping  the  chil 
dren. 

"  It  is  difficult  enough  to  manage  a  girl  like  Polly," 
he  said  to  himself ;  "  but  when  another  girl  comes 
to  the  house  who  is  equally  audacious  and  untamed 
— for  my  Polly  is  an  untamed  creature  when  all's 
said  and  done — how  is  a  poor  half-blind  old  doctor 
like  myself  to  keep  these  two  turbulent  spirits  in 
order  ?  I  am  dreadfully  afraid  the  experiment  won't 
work  ;  and  yet — and  yet  £400  a  year  is  sadly  needed 
to  add  to  the  family  purse  just  now." 

The  Doctor  was  pacing  up  and  down  his  library 
while  he  meditated.  The  carpet  in  this  part  of  the 
room  was  quite  worn  from  the  many  times  he  walked 
up  and  down  it.  Like  many  another  man,  when  he 
was  perplexed  or  anxious  he  could  not  keep  still. 
There  came  a  light  tap  at  the  library  door. 

"  Come  in !  "  said  the  Doctor  ;  and  to  his  surprise 
Flower,  looking  more  like  a  tall  yellow  daffodil  than 
ever,  in  a  soft  dress  of  creamy  Indian  silk,  opened 
the  door  and  took  a  step  or  two  into  the  room. 

She  looked  half-shy,  half-bold — a  word  would 
have  sent  her  flying,  or  a  word  drawn  her  close  to 
the  kind  Doctor's  side. 

"  Come  here,  my  little  girl,"  he  said,  "  and  tell  me 
what  .you  want " 


150  POLLY. 

Flower  would  have  hated  any  one  else  to  speak 
of  her  as  a  little  girl,  but  she  pushed  back  her  hair 
now,  and  looked  with  less  hesitation  and  more  long 
ing  at  the  Doctor. 

"  I  thought  you'd  be  here — I  ventured  to  come," 
she  said. 

"  Yes,  yes ;  there's  no  venturing  in  the  matter. 
Take  my  arm,  and  walk  up  and  down  with  me." 

"May  I  really?" 

"Of  course  you  may,  puss.  Now  I'll  warrant 
anything  you  have  walked  many  a  carpet  bare  with 
your  own  father.  See !  this  is  almost  in  holes ; 
those  are  Polly's  steps,  these  are  mine." 

"Oh — yes — well,  father  isn't  that  sort  of  man. 
I'll  take  your  arm  if  I  may,  Doctor.  Thank  you. 
I  didn't  think — I  don't  exactly  know  how  to  say 
what  I  want  to.  say." 

"  Take  time,  my  dear  child ;  and  it  is  no  matter 
how  you  put  the  words." 

"  When  I  heard  that  there  was  no  mother  here, 
I  did  not  want  to  stay  long.  That  was  before  I 
knew  you.  Now — I  came  to  say  it — I  do  want  to 
stay,  and  so  does  David." 

"  But  you  don't  really  know  me  at  all,  Flower." 

"  Perhaps  not  really ;  but  still  enough  to  want  to 
stay.  May  I  stay  ?  " 

Flower's  charming  face  looked  up  inquiringly. 

"  May  I  stay  ? "  she  repeated,  earnestly.  "  I  do 
wish  it ! — very  much  indeed." 

Dr.  Maybright  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  I  was  thinking  about  this  very  point  when  you 
knocked  at  the  door,"  he  said,  presently.  "  I  was 
wondering  if  you  two  children  could  stay.  I  want 
to  keep  you,  and  yet  I  own  I  am  rather  fearful  of  the 
result.  You  see,  there  are  so  many  motherless 
girls  and  boys  in  this  house." 


A  YOUNG  QUEEN.  151 

«  But  we  are  motherless  too ;  you  should  be  sorry 
for  us ;  you  should  wish  to  keep  us." 

"  I  ain  very  sorry  for  you.  I  have  grown  to  a  certain 
extent  already  to  love  you.  You  interest  me  much  ; 
still,  I  must  be  just  to  you  and  to  my  own  children. 
You  are  not  a  common,  everyday  sort  of  girl,  Flower. 
I  don't  wish  to  flatter  you,  and  I  am  not  going  to  say 
whether  you  are  nice  or  the  reverse.  But  there  is  no 
harm  in  my  telling  you  that  you  are  out  of  the  com 
mon.  It  is  probable  that  you  may  be  extremely 
difficult  to  manage,  and  it  is  possible  that  your  dis 
position  may — may  clash  with  those  of  some  of  the 
members  of  my  own  household.  I  don't  say  that  this 
will  be  the  case,  mind,  only  it  is  possible.  In  that 
case,  what  would  you  expect  me  to  do  ?  " 

"  To  keep  me,"  said  Flower,  boldly, "  and,  if  neces 
sary,  send  away  the  member  of  the  household,  for  I 
am  a  motherless  girl,  and  I  have  come  from  a  long 
way  off  to  be  with  you." 

"  I  don't  quite  think  I  can  do  that,  Flower.  There 
are  many  good  mothers  in  England  who  would  tram 
you  and  love  you,  and  there  are  many  homes  where 
you  might  do  better  than  here.  My  own  children  are 
placed  here  by  God  himself,  and  I  cannot  turn  them 
out.  Still — what  is  the  matter,  my  dear  child  ?  " 

"  I  think  you  are  unjust ;  I  thought  you  would  be 
so  glad  when  I  said  I  wanted  to  stay." 

"  So  I  am  glad ;  and  for  the  present  you  are  here. 
How  long  you  remain  depends  on  yourself.  I  have 
no  intention  of  sending  you  away  at  present.  I 
earnestly  wish  to  keep  you." 

Another  tap  came  to  the  study  door. 

"  If  you  please,  sir,"  said  Alice,  "  blind  Mrs.  Jones 
is  in  the  kitchen,  and  wants  to  know  most  particular 
if  she  can  see  you." 

«  How  ridiculous !  "  said  Flower,  laughing. 


152  POLLY. 

"  Show  Mrs.  Jones  in  here,  Alice,"  said  the 
Doctor. 

His  own  face  had  grown  a  shade  or  two  paler. 

u  Blind  people  often  speak  in  that  way,  Flower," 
he  said,  with  a  certain  intonation  in  his  voice  which 
made  her  regard  him  earnestly. 

The  memory  of  a  rumor  which  had  reached  her 
ears  with  regard  to  the  Doctor's  own  sight  flashed 
Before  her.  She  stooped  suddenly,  and  with  an  im 
pulsive,  passionate  gesture  kissed  his  hand. 

Outside  the  room  David  was  waiting. 

"  Well,  Flower,  well  ?  "  he  asked,  with  intense 
eagerness. 

"  I  spoke  to  him,"  said  Flower.  "  We  are  here  on 
sufferance,  that's  all.  He  is  the  dearest  man  in  all 
the  world,  but  he  is  actually  afraid  of  me." 

"You  are  rather  fierce  at  times,  you  know, 
Flower.  Did  you  tell  him  about — about " 

"  About  what,  silly  boy  ?  " 

"About  the  passions.  You  know,  Flower,  we 
agreed  that  he  had  better  know." 

A  queer  steely  light  came  into  Flower's  blue  eyes. 

"  I  didn't  speak  of  them,"  she  said.  "  If  I  said 
anything  of  that  sort  I'd  soon  be  packed  away.  I 
expect  he's  in  an  awful  fright  about  that  precious 
Polly  of  his." 

"  But  Polly  is  nice,"  interposed  David. 

"  Oh  yes,  just  because  she  has  a  rather  good-look 
ing  face  you  go  over  to  her  side.  I'm  not  at  all  sure 
that  I  like  her.  Anyhow,  I'm  not  going  to  play 
second-fiddle  to  her.  There  now,  Dave,  go  and  play. 
We're  here  on  sufferance,  so  be  on  your  good  be- 
aavior.  As  to  me,  you  need  not  be  the  least  un 
easy.  I  wish  to  remain  at  Sleepy  Hollow,  so  of 
course  the  passions  won't  come.  Go  and  play, 
Dave," 


A  YOUNG  QUEEN. 

Firefly  called  across  the  lawn.  David  bounded 
out  of  the  open  window,  and  Flower  went  slowly  up 
to  her  own  room. 

There  came  a  lovely  day  towards  the  end  of 
October ;  St.  Martin's  summer  was  abroad,  and  the 
children,  with  the  Doctor's  permission,  had  arranged 
to  take  a  long  expedition  across  one  of  the  southern 
moors  in  search  of  late  blackberries.  They  took 
their  dinner  with  them,  and  George,  the  under- 
gardener,  accompanied  the  little  party  for  protec 
tion.  Nurse  elected,  as  usual,  to  stay  at  home  with 
baby,  for  nothing  would  induce  her  to  allow  this 
treasured  little  mortal  out  of  her  own  keeping  ;  but 
the  Doctor  promised,  if  possible,  to  join  the  children 
at  Troublous  Times  Castle  at  two  o'clock  for  dinner. 
This  old  ruin  was  at  the  extreme  corner  of  one  of 
the  great  commons,  and  was  a  very  favorite  resort 
for  picnics,  as  it  still  contained  the  remains  of  a  fine 
old  banqueting-hall,  where  in  stormy  or  uncertain 
weather  a  certain  amount  of  shelter  could  be 
secured. 

The  children  started  off  early,  in  capital  spirits. 
A  light  wind  was  blowing ;  the  sky  was  almost  cloud- 
Jess.  The  tints  of  late  autumn  were  still  abroad  in 
great  glory,  and  the  young  faces  looked  fresh,  care 
less,  and  happy. 

Just  at  the  last  moment,  as  they  were  leaving  the 
house,  an  idea  darted  through  Polly's  brain. 

"  Let's  have  Maggie,"  she  said.  "  I'll  go  round 
by  the  village  and  fetch  her.  She  would  en 
joy  coming  with  us  so  much,  and  it  would  take  off 
her  terror  of  the  moor.  Do  you  know,  Helen,  she  is 
such  a  silly  thing  that  she  has  been  quite  in  a  state 
of  alarm  ever  since  the  day  we  went  to  the  hermit's 
hut.  I  won't  be  a  moment  running  to  fetch  Mag  ; 
do  let's  have  her.  Firefly,  you  can  come  with  me." 


154:  POLLY. 

Maggie,  who  now  resided  with  her  mother,  not 
having  yet  found  another  situation — for  Mrs.  Power 
had  absolutely  declined  to  have  her  back  in  the 
kitchen — was  a  favorite  with  all  the  children.  They 
were  pleased  with  Polly's  proposal,  and  a  chorus 
of  "  Yes,  by  all  means,  let's  have  Maggie  !  "  rose  in 
the  air. 

Flower  was  standing  a  little  apart;  she  wore  a 
dark  green  close-fitting  cloth  dress ;  on  her  graceful 
golden  head  was  a  small  green  velvet  cap.  She  was 
picking  a  late  rose  to  pieces,  and  waiting  for  the 
others  with  a  look  of  languid  indifference  on  her 
face.  Now  she  roused  herself,  and  asked  in  a 
slightly  weary  voice — 

«  Who  is  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Maggie  ? "  responded  Helen,  "  she  was  our 
kitchen-maid  ;  we  are  all  very  fond  of  her — Polly 
especially." 

"  Fond  of  a  kitchen-maid  ?  I  don't  suppose  you 
mean  that,  Helen,"  said  Flower.  "  A  kitchen-maid's 
only  a  servant." 

"  I  certainly  mean  it,"  said  Helen,  with  a  little 
warmth.  "I  am  more  or  less  fond  of  all  our 
servants,  and  Maggie  used  to  be  a  special  favorite." 

"  How  extraordinary !  "  said  Flower  "  The  Eng 
lish  nation  have  very  queer  and  plebeian  ways 
about  them;  it's  very  plebeian  to  take  the  least 
notice  of  servants,  except  to  order  them  to  obey 
you." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  retorted  Polly ;  "  it's  the  sign 
of  a  true  lady  or  gentleman  to  be  perfectly  courteous 
to  their  dependants,  and  if  they  deserve  love,  to 
give  it  to  them.  I'm  fond  of  Maggie  ;  she's  a  good 
little  girl,  and  she  shall  come  to  our  picnic.  Come 
along,  Fire-fly." 

"  I  certainly  will  have  nothing  to  say  to  Polly 


A  YOUNG  QUEEN.  155 

while  she  associates  with  a  servant,"  said  Flower, 
slowly,  and  with  great  apparent  calmness.  "  I  don't 
suppose  we  need  all  wait  for  her  here.  She  can 
follow  with  the  servant  when  she  gets  her.  I  sup 
pose  Polly's  whims  are  not  to  upset  the  whole 
party." 

"  Polly  will  very  likely  catch  us  up  at  the  cross 
roads,"  said  Helen,  in  a  pleasant  voice.  "  Come, 
Flower,  you  won't  really  be  troubled  with  poor 
little  Maggie ;  she  will  spend  her  day  probably  with 
George,  and  will  help  him  to  wash  up  our  dinner- 
things  after  we  have  eaten.  Come,  don't  be  vexed, 
Flower." 

"  I  vexed  !  "  said  Flower.  "  You  are  quite  mis 
taken.  I  don't  intend  to  have  anything  to  say  to 
Polly  while  she  chooses  a  kitchen-maid  for  her 
friend,  but  I  dare  say  the  rest  of  you  can  entertain 
me.  Now,  Mabel  and  Dolly,  shall  I  tell  you  what 
we  did  that  dark  night  when  David  and  I  stole  out 
through  the  pantry  window  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes,  yes  ! "  exclaimed  the  twins.  The  others 
all  clustered  round  eagerly. 

Flower  had  a  very  distinct  voice,  and  when  she 
roused  herself  she  could  really  be  eloquent.  A 
daring  little  adventure  which  she  and  her  brother 
had  experienced  lost  nothing  in  the  telling,  and  when 
Polly,  Firefly,  and  Maggie,  joined  the  group,  they 
.found  themselves  taken  very  little  notice  of,  for  all 
the  other  children,  even  Helen,  were  hanging  on 
Flower's  words. 

"Oh,  I  say,  that  isn't  fair!"  exclaimed  Polly, 
whose  spirits  were  excellent.  "You're  telling  a 
story,  Flower,  and  Firefly  and  I  have  missed  it 
Maggie  loves  stories  too;  don't  you  Mag?  Do 
begin  again,  please  Flower,  please  do  ! " 

Flower  did  not  even  pretend  to  hear  Polly's  words 


— she  walked  straight  on,  gesticulating  a  little  now 
and  then,  now  and  then  raising  her  hand  in  a  slightly 
dramatic  manner.  Her  clear  voice  floated  back  to 
Polly  as  she  walked  forward,  the  center  of  an  eager, 
worshipping,  entranced  audience. 

Polly's  own  temper  was  rather  hasty,  she  felt  her 
face  flushing,  angry  words  were  bubbling  to  her  lips, 
and  she  would  have  flown  after  the  little  party  who 
were  so  utterly  ignoring  her,  if  David  had  not  sud 
denly  slipped  back  and  put  his  hand  on  her  arm. 

"  I  know  the  story,"  he  said ;  "  so  I  needn't  stay 
to  listen.  She's  adding  to  it  awfully.  We  didn't 
use  any  ropes,  the  window  is  only  three  feet  from 
the  ground,  and  the  awful  howling  and  barking  of 
the  mastiff  was  made  by  the  shabbiest  little  cur. 
Flower  is  lovely,  but  she  does  dress  up  her  stories. 
I  love  Flower,  but  I'll  walk  with  you  now,  if  you'll 
let  me  Polly." 

"You're  very  kind,  David,"  said  Polly.  But  I 
don't  know  that  I  want  any  one  to  walk  with  me, 
except  Maggie.  I  think  Flower  was  very  rude  just 
now.  Oh,  you  can  stay  if  you  like,  David — I  don't 
mind,  one  way  or  another.  Isn't  this  south  moor 
lovely,  Maggie?  Aren't  you  glad  I  asked  you  to 
corne  with  us  ?  " 

"  Well  yes,  Miss,  I  be.  It  was  good-natured  of 
you,  Miss  Polly,  only  if  there's  stories  a-going,  I'd 
like  to  be  in  at  them.  I  does  love  narrations  of 
outlandish  places,  Miss.  Oh,  my  word,  and  is  that 
the  little  foreign  gentleman  ?  It  is  a  disappoint 
ment  as  I  can't  'ear  what  the  young  lady's  a-telling 
of." 

"  Well,  Maggie,  you  needn't  be  discontented.  1 
am  not  hearing  this  wonderful  story,  either.  David, 
what  are  you  nudging  me  for  ?  " 

"Send   her  to  walk  with  George,"  whispered 


A  YOUNG  QUEEN.  157 

David.  "  I  want  to  say  something  to  you  so  badly, 
Polly." 

Polly  frowned.  She  did  not  feel  particularly  in 
clined  to  oblige  any  one  just  now,  but  David  had  a 
pleading  way  of  his  own;  he  squeezed  her  arm 
affectionately,  and  looked  into  her  face  with  a  world 
of  beseeching  in  his  big  black  eyes.  After  all  it 
was  no  very  difficult  matter  to  get  at  Polly's  warm 
heart.  She  looked  over  her  shoulder. 

"  George,  will  you  give  Maggie  a  seat  beside  you," 
she  said.  "  No,  none  of  the  rest  of  us  want  to  drive. 
Come  on,  David.  Now  David,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  It's  about  Flower,"  said  David.  "  She — she — 
you  don't  none  of  you  know  Flower  yet." 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  sure  of  that,"  replied  Polly,  speak 
ing  on  purpose  in  a  very  careless  tone.  "  I  suppose 
she's  much  like  other  girls.  She's  rather  pretty,  of 
course,  arid  has  nice  ways  with  her.  I  made  stories 
about  you  both,  but  you're  not  a  bit  like  anything 
1  thought  of.  In  some  ways  you're  nicer,  in  some 
not  so  nice.  Why,  Avhat  is  the  matter,  David? 
What  are  you  staring  at  me  so  hard  for  ?  " 

"  Because  you're  all  wrong,"  responded  David. 
"You  don't  know  Flower.  She's  not  like  other 
girls ;  not  a  bit.  There  were  girls  at  Ballarat,  and 
she  wasn't  like  them.  But  no  one  wondered  at 
that,  for  they  were  rough,  and  not  like  real  ladies. 
And  there  were  girls  on  board  the  big  ship  we  came 
over  in,  and  they  weren't  rough,  but  Flower  wasn't 
a  bit  like  them  either.  And  she's  not  like  any  of 
you,  Polly,  although  I'm  sure  you  are  nice,  and 
Helen  is  sweet,  and  Fly  is  a  little  brick.  Flower  is 
not  like  any  other  girl  I  have  ever  seen." 

"  She  must  be  an  oddity,  then,"  said  Polly.  "  I 
hate  oddities.  Do  let's  walk  a  little  faster,  David." 

"  You  are  wrong  again,"  persisted  David,  quicken- 


158  POLLY. 

ing  his  steps.  "  An  oddity  is  some  one  to  laugh  at, 
but  no  one  has  ever  dreamed  of  laughing  at  Flower. 
She  is  just  herself,  like  no  one  else  in  the  world. 
No,  you  don't  any  of  you  know  her  yet.  I  suppose 
you  are  every  one  of  you  thinking  that  she's  the 
very  nicest  and  cleverest  and  perfectest  girl  you 
ever  met?" 

"  I'm  sure  we  are  not,"  said  Polly  ;  "  I  think,  for 
my  part,  there  has  been  a  great  deal  too  much  fuss 
made  about  her.  I'm  getting  tired  of  her  airs,  and 
I  think  she  was  very  rude  just  now." 

"Oh  don't,  Polly,  you  frighten  me.  I  want  to 
tell  you  something  so  badly.  Will  you  treat  it  as 
a  great,  enormous  secret  ?  will  you  never  reveal  it, 
Polly  ?  " 

"  What  a  queer  boy  you  are,"  said  Polly.  "  No, 
I  won't  tell.  What's  the  mystery  ?  " 

"It's  this.  Flower  is  sometimes — sometimes — 
oh,  it's  dreadful  to  have  to  tell ! — Flower  is  some 
times  not  nice." 

Polly's  eyes  danced. 

"  You're  a  darling,  David !  "  she  said.  "  Of  course, 
that  sister  of  yours  is  not  perfect.  I'd  hate  her  if 
she  was." 

"  But  it  isn't  that,"  said  David.  « It's  so  difficult 
to  tell.  When  Flower  isn't  nice,  it's  not  a  small 
thing,  it's — oh,  she's  awful !  Polly,  I  don't  want  any 
of  you  ever  to  see  Flower  in  a  passion;  you'd  be 
frightened,  oh,  you  would  indeed.  We  were  all 
dreadfully  unhappy  at  Ballarat  when  Flower  was  in 
a  passion,  and  lately  we  tried  not  to  get  her  into 
one.  That's  what  I  want  you  to  do,  Polly  ;  I  want 
you  to  try;  I  want  you  to  see  that  she  is  not 
vexed." 

"  I  like  that,"  said  Polly.  "  Am  I  to  be  on  my 
'  P's  and  Q's,  for  this  Miss  Flower  of  yours  ?  Now, 


(A  YOtTNG  QtTEEK. 

David,  what  do  you  mean  by  a  great  passion  ?  I'm 
rather  hot  myself.  Come,  you  saw  me  very  cross 
about  the  lemonade  yesterday;  is  Flower  worse 
than  that  ?  What  fun  it  must  be  to  see  her ! " 

"  Don't !  "  said  David,  turning  pale.  "  You  wouldn't 
speak  in  that  way,  Polly,  if  you  knew.  What  you 
did  yesterday  like  Flower  ?  Why,  I  didn't  notice 

you  at  all.  Flower's  passions  are — are But  I 

can't  speak  of  them,  Polly." 

"Then  why  did  you  tell  me?"  said  Polly.  "I 
can't  help  her  getting  into  rages,  if  she's  so  silly." 

"  Oh  yes  you  can,  and  that's  why  I  spoke  to  you. 
She's  a  little  vexed  now,  about  your  having  brought 
the — the  kitchen-maid  here.  I  know  well  she's 
vexed,  because  she's  extra  polite  with  every  one 
else.  That's  a  way  she  has  at  first.  I  don't  suppose 
she'll  speak  to  you,  Polly ;  but  oh,  Polly,  I  will  love 
you  so  much,  I'll  do  anything  in  all  the  world  for 
you,  if  only  you'll  send  Maggie  home  !  " 

"What  are  you  dreaming  of?"  said  Polly. 
"Because  Flower  is  an  ill-tempered,  proud,  silly 
girl,  am  I  to  send  poor  little  Maggie  away  ?  No, 
David,  if  your  sister  has  a  bad  temper,  she  must 
learn  to  control  it.  She  is  living  in  England  now, 
and  she  must  put  up  with  our  English  ways ;  we 
are  always  kind  to  our  servants." 

«  Then  it  can't  be  helped,"  said  David.  «  You'll 
remember  that  I  warned  you — you'll  be  sorry  after 
wards  !  Hullo,  Flower — yes,  Flower,  I'm  coming." 

He  flew  from  Polly's  side,  going  boldly  over  to 
what  the  little  girl  was  now  pleased  to  call  the 
ranks  of  the  enemy.  She  felt  sorry  for  a  moment, 
for  Firefly  had  long  since  deserted  her.  Then  she 
retraced  her  steps,  and  walked  by  Maggie's  side  for 
the  rest  of  the  time. 


160  K>LLY. 


CHAPTER  III. 

NOT   LIKE    OTHEBS. 

IT  was  still  early  when  the  children  reached 
Troublous  Times  Castle.  Dr.  Maybright  would  not 
be  likely  to  join  them  for  nearly  an  hour.  They 
had  walked  fast,  and  Polly,  at  least,  felt  both  tired 
and  cross.  When  the  twins  ran  up  to  her  and 
assured  her  with  much  enthusiasm  that  they  had 
never  had  a  more  delightful  walk,  she  turned  from 
them  with  a  little  muttered  "Pshaw!"  Polly's 
attentions  now  to  Maggie  were  most  marked,  and 
if  this  young  person  were  not  quite  one  of  the  most 
obtuse  in  existence,  it  is  possible  she  might  have 
felt  slightly  embarrassed. 

«  While  we're  waiting  for  father,"  exclaimed  Polly, 
speaking  aloud,  and  in  that  aggressive  tone  which 
had  not  been  heard  from  her  lips  since  the  night  of 
the  supper  in  the  attic — "  while  we're  waiting  foi 
father  we'll  get  the  banqueting -hall  ready.  Maggie 
and  I  will  see  to  this,  but  any  one  who  likes  to  join 
us  can.  We  don't  require  any  assistance,  but  if  it 
gives  pleasure  to  any  of  the  others  to  see  us  unpack 
the  baskets,  now  is  the  time  for  them  to  say  the 
word." 

"  But,  of  course,  we're  all  going  to  get  the  dinner 
ready,"  exclaimed  Dolly  and  Katie,  in  voices  of  con 
sternation.  "  What  a  ridiculous  way  you  are  talk 
ing,  Polly !  This  is  all  our  affair :  half  the  fun  is 
getting  the  dinner  ready.  Isn't  it,  Nell  ?  " 


NOT  LIKE  OTHERS. 

•"Yes,  of  course,"  said  Helen,  in  her  pleasant, 
bright  voice.  "  We'll  all  do  as  much  as  we  can  do 
to  make  the  banqueting-hall  ready  for  father.  Now, 
let's  get  George  to  take  the  hampers  there  at  once ; 
and,  Flower,  I  thought,  perhaps,  you  would  help  me 
to  touch  up  the  creepers  here  and  there,  they  do  look 
so  lovely  falling  over  that  ruined  west  window. 
Come,  Flower,  now  let's  all  of  us  set  to  work  with 
out  any  more  delay." 

"  Yes,  Flower,  and  you  know  you  have  such  a  way 
of  making  things  look  sweet,"  said  David,  taking  his 
sister's  hand  and  kissing  it. 

She  put  her  arm  carelessly  round  his  neck,  stooped 
down,  and  pressed  her  lips  to  his  brow,  then  said 
in  that  light,  arch  tone,  which  she  had  used  all  day. 
"  David  is  mistaken.  I  can't  make  things  look  sweet, 
and  I'm  not  coming  to  the  banqueting-hall  at 
present," 

There  was  a  pointed  satire  in  the  two  last  words. 
Flower's  big  blue  eyes  rested  carelessly  on  Maggie, 
then  they  traveled  to  where  Polly  stood,  and  a  fine 
scorn  curled  her  short,  sensitive  upper  lip.  The 
words  she  had  used  were  nothing,  but  her  expressive 
glance  meant  a  good  deal.  Polly  refused  to  see  the 
world  of  entreaty  on  David's  face — she  threw  down 
her  challenge  with  equal  scorn  and  a  good  deal  of 
comic  dignity. 

"It's  a  very  good  thing,  then,  you're  not  coming 
to  the  banqueting-hall,  Flower,"  she  said.  "  For  we 
don't  want  people  there  who  have  no  taste.  I  sup 
pose  it's  because  you  are  an  Australian,  for  in  Eng 
land  even  the  cottagers  know  a  little  about  how  to 
make  picnics  look  pretty.  Maggie  is  a  cottager  at 
present,  as  she's  out  of  a  situation,  so  it's  lucky  we've 
brought  her.  Now,  as  every  one  else  wants  to  come, 
let  them,  and  don't  let's  waste  any  more  time,  or 


162  POLLY. 

when  father  comes,  we  really  will  have  nothing  ready 
for  him  to  eat." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Flower.  "  Then  I  shall  take  a 
walk  by  myself.  I  wish  to  be  by  myself.  No,  David, 
you  are  not  to  come  with  me,  I  forbid  it." 

For  a  quarter  of  a  second  a  queer  steely  light  filled 
her  blue  eyes.  David  shrank  from  her  glance,  and 
followed  the  rest  of  the  party  down  a  flight  of  steps 
which  led  also  into  the  old  banqueting-hall. 

"You've  done  it  now,"  he  whispered  to  Polly. 
"You'll  be  very,  very  sorry  by-and-by,  and  you'll 
remember  then  that  I  warned  you." 

"  I  really  think  you're  the  most  tiresome  boy,"  said 
Polly.  "  You  want  to  make  mysteries  out  of  noth 
ing.  I  don't  see  that  Flower  is  particularly  passion 
ate  ;  she's  a  little  bit  sarcastic,  and  she  likes  to  say 
nasty,  scathing  things,  but  you  don't  suppose  I  mind 
her  !  She'll  soon  come  to  her  senses  when  she  sees 
that  we  are  none  of  us  petting  her,  or  bowing  down 
to  her.  I  expect  that  you  and  your  father  have 
spoiled  that  Flower  of  yours  over  in  Ballarat." 

"  You  don't  know  Flower  a  bit,"  responded  David. 
"I  warned  you.  You'll  remember  that  presently. 
Flower  not  passionate !  Why,  she  was  white  with 
passion  when  she  went  away.  Well,  you  wait  and 
see." 

"I  wish  you'd  stop  talking,"  responded  Polly, 
crossly.  "We'll  never  have  things  ready  if  you 
chatter  so,  and  try  to  perplex  me.  There's  poor  Fly 
almost  crying  over  that  big  hamper.  Please,  David, 
g*>  und  help  her  to  get  the  knives,  and  forks,  and 
glasses  out,  and  don't  break  any  glasses,  for  we're 
always  fined  if  we  break  glasses  at  picnics." 

David  moved  away  slowly.  He  was  an  active 
little  fellow  as  a  rule,  but  now  there  seemed  to  be  a 
weight  over  him.  The  vivaciousness  had  left  his 


NOT  LIKE  OTHERS.  163 

handsome,  dark  little  face ;  once  he  turned  round 
and  looked  at  Polly  with  a  volume  of  reproach  in  his 
eyes. 

She  would  not  meet  his  eyes,  she  was  "bending 
over  her  own  hamper,  and  was  laughing  and  chat 
ting  gaily  with  every  one  who  came  within  her  reach. 
The  moment  Flower's  influence  was  removed  Polly 
became  once  more  the  ringleader  of  all  the  fun. 
Once  more  she  was  appealed  to,  her  advice  asked, 
her  directions  followed.  She  could  not  help  admit 
ting  to  herself  that  she  liked  the  change,  and  for  the 
first  time  a  conscious  feeling  of  active  dislike  to 
Flower  took  possession  of  her.  What  right  had  this 
strange  girl  to  come  and  take  the  lead  in  everything  ? 
No,  she  was  neither  yery  pretty  nor  very  agreeable  ; 
she  was  a  conceited,  ill-tempered,  proud  creature, 
and  it  was  Polly's  duty,  of  course  it  was  Polly's 
duty,  to  see  that  she  was  not  humored.  Was  there 
anything  so  unreasonable  and  monstrous  as  her  dis 
like  to  poor  little  Maggie?  Poor  little  harmless 
Maggie,  who  had  never  done  her  an  ill-turn  in  her 
life.  Really  David  had  been  too  absurd  when  he 
proposed  that  Maggie  should  be  sent  home.  David 
was  a  nice  boy  enough,  but  he  was  not  to  suppose 
that  every  one  was  to  bow  down  to  his  Queen 
Flower.  Ridiculous  !  let  her  go  into  passions  if  she 
liked,  she  would  soon  be  tamed  and  brought  to  her 
senses  when  she  had  been  long  enough  in  England. 

Polly  worked  herself  up  into  quite  a  genuine  little 
temper  of  her  own,  as  she  thought,  and  she  now  re 
solved,  simply  and  solely  for  the  purpose  of  teasing 
Flower,  that  Maggie  should  dine  with  them  all,  and 
have  a  seat  of  honor  near  herself.  When  she  had 
carelessly  thought  of  her  coming  to  the  picnic,  she, 
of  course,  like  all  the  others,  had  intended  that 
Maggie  and  George  should  eat  their  dinner  together 


164  POLLY. 

after  the  great  meal  was  over;  and  even  Helen 
shook  her  head  now  when  Polly  proposed  in  her 
bright  audacious  way  that  Maggie  should  sit  near 
her,  in  one  of  the  best  positions,  where  she  could  see 
the  light  flickering  through  the  ivy,  which  nearly 
covered  the  beautiful  west  window. 

"  As  you  like,  of  course,  Polly,"  responded  Helen. 
"  But  I  do  think  it  is  putting  Maggie  a  little  out  of 
her  place.  Perhaps  father  won't  like  it,  and  I'm  sure 
Flower  won't." 

"I'll  ask  father  myself,  when  he  arrives,"  an 
swered  Polly,  choosing  to  ignore  the  latter  part  of 
Helen's  speech. 

The  banqueting-hall,  which  was  a  perfect  ruin  at 
one  end,  was  still  covered  over  at  the  other.  And  it 
was  in  this  portion,  full  of  picturesque  half-lights 
and  fascinating  dark  corners,  that  the  children  had 
laid  out  their  repast.  The  west  window  was  more, 
than  fifty  feet  distant.  It  was  nearly  closed  in  with 
an  exquisite  tracery  of  ivy ;  but  as  plenty  of  light 
poured  into  the  ruin  from  the  open  sky  overhead, 
this  mattered  very  little,  and  but  added  to  the  gen 
eral  effect.  The  whole  little  party  were  very  busy, 
and  no  one  worked  harder  than  Polly,  and  no  one's 
laugh  was  more  merry.  Now  and  then,  it  is  true, 
an  odd  memory  and  a  queer  sensation  of  failure 
came  over  her.  Was  she  really — really  to-day,  at 
least — trying  to  climb  successfully  the  highest 
mountain  ?  She  stifled  the  little  voice  speaking  in 
her  heart,  delighted  her  brothers  and  sisters,  and 
even  caused  a  smile  to  play  round  David's  grave  lips 
as  she  made  one  witty  remark  after  another.  Fire 
fly  in  particular  was  in  ecstasies  with  her  beloved 
sister,  and  when  the  Doctor  at  last  appeared  on  the 
scene  the  fun  was  at  its  height. 

The  moment  he  entered  the  banqueting-hall  Polly 


NOT  LIKE  OTHERS.  165 

went  up  to  him,  put  on  her  archest  and  most  plead 
ing  expression,  and  said  in  a  tone  of  inquiry — 

"  It's  all  so  delightful,  and  such  a  treat  for  her. 
And  you  don't  mind,  do  you,  father  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  that  I  mind  anything  at  this 
moment,  Polly,  for  I  am  hungry,  and  your  viands 
look  tempting  of  the  tempting.  Unless  you  bid  me 
not  to  come  to  the  feast,  I  shall  quarrel  with  no 
other  suggestion." 

"  Oh  !  you  darlingest  of  fathers  ;  then  you  won't  be 
angry  if  poor  Maggie  sits  next  me,  and  has  her  dinner 
with  us  '?  She  is  a  little  afraid  of  the  moor,  and  I 
wanted  to  cure  her,  so  I  brought  her  to-day,  and  she 
will  be  so  happy  if  she  can  sit  next  me  at  dinner." 

"  Put  her  where  you  please,  my  dear  ;  we  are  not 
sitting  on  forms  or  standing  on  ceremony  at  present. 
And  now  to  dinner,  to  dinner,  children,  for  I  must 
be  off  again  in  an  hour." 

No  one  noticed,  not  even  David,  that  while  the 
Doctor  was  speaking  a  shadow  stole  up  and  re 
mained  motionless  by  the  crumbling  stairs  of  the 
old  banqueting-hall :  no  one  either  saw  when  it 
glided  away.  Polly  laughed,  and  almost  shouted  ; 
every  one,  Flower  excepted,  took  their  places  as  best 
they  could  on  the  uneven  floor  of  the  hall ;  the 
white  table-cloth  was  spread  neatly  in  the  middle. 
Every  one  present  was  exceedingly  uncomfortable 
physically,  and  yet  each  person  expressed  him  or 
herself  in  tones  of  rapture,  and  said  never  was  such 
food  eaten,  or  such  a  delightful  dinner  served. 

For  a  long  time  Flower  was  not  even  missed ;  then 
David's  grave  face  attracted  the  Doctor's  attention. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  my  lad  ?  "  he  said.  "  Have 
you  a  headache  ?  Don't  you  enjoy  this  alfresco  sort 
of  entertainment  ?  And,  by  the  way,  I  don't  see 


your  sister.  Helen,  my  dear,  do  you  know  where 
Flower  is  ?  Did  not  she  come  with  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  she  did,  father  :  how  stupid  and  care 
less  of  me  never  to  have  missed  her." 

Helen  jumped  up  from  the  tailor-like  position  she 
was  occupying  on  the  floor. 

"  Flower  said  she  would  take  a  little  walk,"  she 
continued.  "  And  I  must  say  I  forgot  all  about  her. 
She  ought  to  have  been  back  ages  ago." 

"  Flower  went  by  herself  for  a  walk  oii  the  moor !  " 
echoed  the  Doctor.  "  But  that  isn't  safe  ;  she  may 
lose  her  way,  or  get  frightened.  Why  did  you  let 
her  go,  children  ?  " 

No  one  answered  ;  a  little  cloud  seemed  to  have 
fallen  on  the  merry  party.  Polly  again  had  a  pin 
prick  of  uneasiness  in  her  heart,  and  a  vivid  recollec 
tion  of  the  highest  mountain  which  she  was  certainly 
not  trying  to  climb. 

The  Doctor  said  he  would  go  at  once  to  look  for 
Flower. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  YOUNG  AUSTRALIAN. 

DAVID  was  quite  right  when  he  said  his  sister 
was  not  like  other  girls.  There  was  a  certain  ele 
ment  of  wildness  in  her;  she  had  sweet  man 
ners,  a  gracious  bearing,  an  attractive  face ;  but  in 
some  particulars  she  was  untamed.  Never  had 
that  terrible  strong  temper  of  hers  been  curbed. 
More  than  one  of  the  servants  in  the  old  home  at 
Ballarat  had  learnt  to  dread  it.  When  Flower 
stormed,  her  father  invariably  left  home,  and  David 
shut  himself  up  in  his  own  room.  Her  mother,  an 
affectionate  but  not  particularly  strong-minded  wo- 


A  YOUNG  AUSTRALIAN.  167 

man,  alone  possessed  sufficient  fcourage  to  approach 
the  storm-tossed  little  fury.  Mrs.  Dalrymple  had 
a  certain  power  of  soothing  the  little  girl,  but  even 
she  never  attempted  to  teach  the  child  the  smallest 
lesson  of  self-control. 

This  unchecked,  unbridled  temper  grew  and 
strengthened  with  Flower's  growth.  When  under 
its  influence  she  was  a  transformed  being,  and  David 
had  good  reasons  to  be  afraid  of  her. 

In  addition  to  an  ungovernable  temper,  Flower 
was'  proud ;  she  possessed  the  greatest  pride  of  all, 
that  of  absolute  ignorance.  She  believed  firmly  in 
caste  ;  had  she  lived  in  olden  days  in  America,  she 
would  have  been  a  very  cruel  mistress  of  slaves. 
Yet  with  it  all  Flower  had  an  affectionate  heart ; 
she  was  generous,  loyal,  but  she  was  so  thoroughly 
a  spoiled  and  untrained  creature  that  her  good 
qualities  were  nearly  lost  under  the  stronger  sway 
of  her  bad  ones. 

After  her  mother's  death  Flower  had  fretted  so 
much  that  she  had  grown  shadowy  and  ill.  It  was 
then  her  father  conceived  the  idea  of  sending  her 
and  David  to  an  English  family  to  train  and  educate. 
He  could  not  manage  Flower,  he  could  not  educate 
David.  The  Maybrights  were  heard  of  through  a 
mutual  friend,  and  Flower  was  reconciled  to  the 
thought  of  leaving  the  land  and  home  of  her  birth 
because  she  was  told  she  was  going  to  another 
mother.  She  dried  her  eyes  at  this  thought,  and 
was  tolerably  cheerful  during  the  voyage  over.  On 
reaching  England  the  news  of  Mrs.  Maybright's 
death  was  broken  to  her.  Again  Flower  stormed 
and  raged ;  she  gave  poor  little  David  a  dreadful 
night,  but  in  the  morning  her  tears  were  dried,  her 
smile  had  returned,  and  she  went  down  to  Sleepy 
Hollow  with  the  Doctor  in  fairly  good  spirits. 


168  POLLY. 

The  young  Maybrights  were  all  on  their  best  be 
havior — Flower  was  on  hers,  and  until  the  day  of 
the  picnic  all  went  well. 

It  did  not  take  a  great  deal  to  rouse  first  the  ob 
stinate  pride  of  this  young  Australian,  and  then  her 
unbridled  passions.  Associate  with  a  servant  ?  No, 
that  she  would  never,  never  do.  Show  Polly  that 
she  approved  of  her  conduct  ?  Not  while  her  own 
name  was  Flower  Dalrymple.  She  let  all  the  other 
happy  children  go  down  to  the  banqueting-hall 
without  her,  and  strode  away,  miserable  at  heart, 
choking  with  rage  and  fury. 

The  Dalrymples  were  very  wealthy  people,  and 
Flower's  home  in  Ballarat  was  furnished  with  every 
luxury.  Notwithstanding  this,  the  little  girl  had 
never  been  in  a  truly  refined  dwelling-house  until 
she  took  up  her  abode  in  old-fashioned  Sleepy  Hol 
low.  Flower  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to  Helen,  and 
she  already  warmly  loved  Dr.  Maybright.  She  was 
wandering  over  the  moor  now,  a  miserable,  storm- 
tossed  little  personage,  when  she  saw  his  old-fash 
ioned  gig  and  white  pony  "  Rowney  "  approaching. 
That  old  gig  and  the  person  who  sat  in  it — for  Dr. 
Maybright  drove  himself— began  to  act  on  the  heart 
of  the  child  with  a  curious  magnetic  force.  Step  by 
step  they  caused  her  to  turn,  until  she  reached 
Troublous  Times  Castle  almost  as  soon  as  the 
Doctor.  She  did  not  know  why  she  was  coming 
back,  for  she  had  not  the  remotest  idea  of  yielding 
her  will  to  Polly's.  Still  she  had  a  kind  of  instinct 
that  the  Doctor  would  set  things  right.  By  this 
she  meant  that  he  would  give  her  her  own  way  and 
banish  Maggie  from  the  scene  of  festivity. 

The  banqueting-hall  at  the  old  castle  could  be 
reached  by  two  ways :  you  might  approach  it  quite 
easily  over  the  green  sward,  or  you  might  enter  a 


A  YOUNG  AUSTRALIAN.  169 

higher  part  of  the  castle,  and  coine  to  it  down 
broken  steps. 

The  Doctor  chose  one  way  of  approaching  the 
scene  of  the  feast,  Flower  another.  She  was  about 
to  descend  when  she  heard  voices :  Polly  was  eagerly 
asking  permission  for  Maggie  to  dine  with  them ; 
the  Doctor,  in  his  easy,  genial  tones,  was  giving  it  to 
her.  That  was  enough.  If  Flower  had  never 
known  before  what  absolute  hatred  was  like,  she 
knew  it  now.  She  hated  Polly ;  ungovernable  pas 
sion  mounted  to  her  brain,  filled  her  eyes,  lent  wings 
to  her  feet ;  she  turned  and  fled. 

Although  the  month  was  October,  it  was  still  very 
hot  in  the  middle  of  the  day  on  the  open  moor. 
Flower,  however,  was  accustomed  to  great  heat  in 
her  native  home,  and  the  full  rays  of  the  sun  did 
not  impede  her  flight.  She  was  so  tall  and  slight 
and  willowy  that  she  was  a  splendid  runner,  but 
the  moor  was  broken  and  rough,  interspersed  here 
and  there  with  deep  bracken,  here  and  there  with 
heather,  here  and  there  again  with  rank  clumps  of 
undergrowth.  The  young  girl,  half  blinded  with 
rage  and  passion,  did  not  see  the  sharp  points  of  the 
rocks  or  the  brambles  in  her  path.  Once  or  twice 
she  fell.  After  her  second  fall  she  was  so  much 
bruised  and  hurt,  that  she  was  absolutely  forced 
to  sit  still  in  the  midst  of  the  yellow  and  brown 
bracken.  It  was  in  a  bristling,  withered  state,  but 
it  still  stood  thick  and  high,  and  formed  a  kind  of 
a  screen  all  round  Flower  as  she  sat  in  it.  S-he  took 
off  her  cap,  and  idly  fanned  her  hot  face  with  it  ; 
her  yellow  head  could  scarcely  be  distinguished 
from  the  orange  and  gold  tints  of  the  bracken  which 
surrounded  her. 

In  this  way  the  Doctor,  who  was  now  anxiously 


170  POLLY. 

looking  for  Flower,  missed  her,  for  he  drove  slowly 
\>y,  hot  a  hundred  yards  from  her  hiding-place. 

As  Flower  sat  and  tried  to  cool  herself,  she  began 
to  reflect.  Her  passion  was  not  in  the  least  over ;  on 
the  contrary,  its  most  dangerous  stage  had  now  be 
gun.  As  she  thought,  there  grew  up  stronger  and 
stronger  hi  her  heart  a  great  hatred  for  Polly.  From 
the  first,  Flower  had  not  taken  so  warmly  to  Polly 
as  she  had  done  to  Helen.  The  fact  was,  these  girls 
were  in  many  ways  too  much  alike.  Had  it  been 
Polly's  fate  to  be  born  and  brought  up  in  Ballarat, 
she  might  have  been  Flower  over  again.  She  might 
have  been  even  worse  than  Flower,  for  she  was 
cleverer;  on  the  other  hand,  had  Flower  been 
trained  by  Polly's  wise  and  loving  mother,  she 
might  have  been  a  better  girl  than  Polly. 

As  it  was,  however,  these  two  must  inevitably 
clash.  They  were  like  two  queen  bees  in  the  same 
hive;  they  each  wanted  the  same  place.  It  only 
needed  a  trifle  to  bring  Flower's  uneasy,  latent  feel 
ing  against  Polly  to  perfection.  The  occasion  arose, 
the  match  had  fired  the  easily  ignited  fuel,  and 
Flower  sat  now  and  wondered  how  she  could  best 
revenge  herself  on  Polly. 

After  a  time,  stiff  and  limping,  for  she  had  hurt 
her  ankle,  she  recommenced  her  walk  across  the 
moor.  She  had  not  the  least  idea  where  her  steps 
were  leading  her.  She  was  tired,  her  feet  ached,  and 
her  great  rage  had  sufficiently  cooled  to  make  her 
remember  distinctly  that  she  had  eaten  no  dinner ; 
still,  she  plodded  on.  From  the  time  she  had  left 
Troublous  Times  Castle  she  had  not  encountered  an 
individual,  but  now,  as  she  stepped  forward,  a  man 
suddenly  rose  from  his  lair  in  the  grass  and  con 
fronted  her.  He  was  a  black-eyed,  unkempt,  uncouth- 
looking  person,  and  any  other  girl  would  have  been 


A  •fcOtfNG  AUSTRALIA!?.  17J 

Very  much  afraid  of  him.  He  put  his  arms  akimbo,  a 
disagreeable  smile  crossed  his  face,  and  he  instantly 
placed  himself  in  such  a  position  as  completely  to  bar 
the  girl's  path. 

An  English  girl  would  have  turned  pale  at  such 
an  apparition  in  so  lonely  a  place,  but  Flower  had 
seen  bush  men  in  her  day,  and  did  not  perceive  any 
thing  barbarous  or  outlandish  in  the  man's  appear 
ance. 

"  I'm  glad  I've  met  you,"  she  said,  in  her  clear 
dulcet  voice,  "  for  you  can  tell  me  where  I  am.  I 
want  to  get  to  Sleepy  Hollow,  Dr.  Maybright's  place 
• — am  I  far  away  ?  " 

"  Two  miles,  as  the  crow  flies,"  responded  the  man. 

"  But  I  can't  go  as  the  crow  flies.  What  is  the 
best  way  to  walk  ?  Can't  you  show  me  ?  " 

"  No-a.  I  be  sleepy.  Have  you  got  a  coin  about 
you,  Miss?" 

"  Money  ?  No.  I  left  my  purse  at  home.  I  have 
not  got  a  watch,  either,  nor  a  chain,  but  I  have  got 
a  little  ring.  It  is  very  thin,  but  it  is  pure  gold, 
and  I  am  fond  of  it.  I  will  give  it  to  you  if  you  will 
take  me  the  very  nearest  way  to  Sleepy  Hollow." 

The  man  grinned  again. 

"  You  be  a  girl !  "  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  admiration. 
"  Yes,  I'll  take  you ;  come." 

He  turned  on  his  heel,  shambled  on  in  front,  and 
Flower  followed. 

In  this  manner  the  two  walked  for  some  time. 
Suddenly  they  mounted  a  ridge,  and  then  the  man 
pointed  to  where  the  Doctor's  house  stood,  snug1  in 
its  own  enclosure. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Flower. 

She  took  a  little  twist  of  gold  off  her  smallest 
finger,  dropped  it  Into  the  man's  dirty,  open  palm, 
and  began  quickly  to  descend  the  ridge  hi  the  direc- 


POLLY. 

tion  of  the  Hollow.  It  was  nearly  three  o'clock  when 
she  entered  the  cool,  wide  entrance-hall.  The  house 
felt  still  and  restful.  Flower  acknowledged  to  her 
self  that  she  was  both  tired  and  hungry,  but  her  main 
idea  to  revenge  herself  on  Polly  was  stronger  than 
either  fatigue  or  hunger.  She  walked  into  the  din 
ing-room,  cut  a  thick  slice  from  a  home-made  loaf 
of  bread,  broke  off  a  small  piece  to  eat  at  once,  and 
put  the  rest  into  her  pocket.  A  dish  of  apples  stood 
near ;  she  helped  herself  to  two,  stowed  them  away 
with  the  bread  in  the  capacious  pocket  of  her  green 
cloth  dress,  and  then  looked  around  her.  She  had 
got  to  Polly's  home,  but  how  was  she  to  accomplish 
her  revenge  ?  How  strike  Polly  through  her  most 
vulnerable  point  ? 

She  walked  slowly  upstairs,  meditating  as  she 
went.  Her  own  little  bower-like  room  stood  open ; 
she  entered  it.  Polly's  hands  had  been  mainly  in 
strumental  in  giving  choice  touches  to  this  room ; 
Polly's  favorite  blue  vase  stood  filled  with  flowers 
on  the  dressing-table,  and  a  lovely  photograph  of  the 
Sistine  Madonna  which  belonged  to  Polly  hung  over 
the  mantelpiece.  Flower  did  not  look  at  any  of  these 
things.  She  unlocked  a  small  drawer  in  a  dainty 
inlaid  cabinet,  which  she  had  brought  with  her  from 
Ballarat,  took  out  two  magnificent  diamond  rings,  a 
little  watch  set  with  jewels,  and  a  small  purse,  very 
dainty  in  itself,  but  which  only  held  a  few  shillings. 
She  put  all  these  treasures  into  a  small  black  velvet 
bag,  fastened  the  bag  round  her  neck  by  a  narrow 
gold  chain,  and  then  leaving  her  room,  stood  once 
more  in  a  contemplative  attitude  on  the  landing. 

She  was  ready  now  for  flight  herself,  for  when 
she  had  revenged  herself  on  Polly,  she  must  cer 
tainly  fly.  But  how  should  she  accomplish  her  re 
venge  ?  what  should  she  do?  She  thought  hard. 


A  YOUNG  AUSTRALIAN.  173 

She  knew  she  had  but  little  time,  for  the  Doctor 
and  the  children  might  return  at  any  moment. 

In  the  distance  she  heard  the  merry  laugh  of 
Polly's  little  sister,  Pearl.  Flower  suddenly  colored, 
her  eyes  brightened,  and  she  said  to  herself, 

"  That  is  a  good  idea  ;  I  will  go  and  have  a  talk 
with  Nurse.  I  can  find  out  somehow  from  Nurse 
what  Polly  likes  best." 

She  ran  at  once  to  the  nurseries. 

"My  dear  Miss  Flower,"  exclaimed  Nurse. 
"  Why,  wherever  have  you  been,  Miss  ?  I  thought 
you  was  with  the  others.  Well !  you  do  look  tired 
and  fagged." 

"I  have  walked  home,"  said  Flower,  carelessly. 
"  I  didn't  care  to  be  out  so  long ;  picnics  are  noth' 
ing  to  me  ;  I'm  accustomed  to  that  sort  of  thing  on 
a  big  scale  at  Ballarat,  you  know.  I  walked  home, 
and  then  I  thought  I'd  have  a  chat  with  you,  if  you 
didn't  mind." 

"  For  sure,  dear.  Sit  you  down  in  that  easy  chair, 
Miss  Flower ;  and  would  you  like  to  hold  baby  for  a 
bit?  Isn't  she  sweet  to-day?  I  must  say  I  never 
saw  a  more  knowing  child  for  her  age." 

"  She  is  very  pretty,"  said  Flower,  carelessly. 
"  But  I  don't  think  I'll  hold  her,  Nurse.  I'm  not 
accustomed  to  babies,  and  I'm  afraid  she  might 
break  or  something.  Do  you  know  I  never  had  a 
baby  in  my  arms  in  my  life  ?  I  don't  remember 
David  when  he  was  tiny.  No,  I  never  saw  anything 
so  young  and  soft  and  tiny  as  this  little  Pearl ;  she 
is  very  pretty." 

"  Eh,  dear  lamb,"  said  Nurse,  squeezing  the  baby 
to  her  heart,  "  she's  the  very  sweetest  of  the  sweet. 
Now  you  surprise  me,  Miss  Flower,  for  I'd  have  said 
yon'd  be  took  up  tremendous  with  babies,  you  has 
them  winsome  ways.  Why,  look  at  the  little  dear, 


174  POLLY. 

she's  laughing  even  now  to  see  you.  She  quite 
takes  to  you,  Miss — the  same  as  she  does  to  Miss 
Polly." 

"  She  takes  to  Polly,  does  she  ?  "  said  Flower. 

"  Take  to  her  ?  I  should  say  so,  Miss ;  and  as  to 
Miss  Polly,  she  just  worships  baby.  Two  or  three 
times  a  day  she  comes  into  the  nursery,  and  many 
and  many  a  time  she  coaxes  me  to  let  her  bath  her. 
The  fact  is,  Miss  Flower,  we  was  all  in  a  dreadful 
taking  about  Miss  Polly  when  her  mamma  died. 
She  was  quite  in  a  stunned  sort  of  state,  and  it  was 
baby  here  brought  her  round.  Ever  since  then  our 
little  Miss  Pearl  has  been  first  of  all  with  Miss 
Polly." 

"  Give  her  to  me,"  said  Flower,  in  a  queer,  changed 
voice.  "I've  altered  my  mind — I'd  like  to  hold  her. 
See,  is  she  not  friendly  ?  Yes,  baby,  kiss  me,  baby, 
with  your  pretty  mouth.  Does  she  not  coo — isn't 
she  perfect  ?  You  are  quite  right,  Nurse.  I  do  like 
to  hold  her,  very  much  indeed." 

"  I  said  she'd  take  to  you,  Miss,"  said  Nucee,  in  a 
gratified  voice. 

"  So  she  does,  and  I  take  to  her.  Nurse,  I  wonder 
if  you'd  do  something  for  me  ?  " 

"  Of  course  I  will,  my  dear." 

"  I  am  so  awfully  hungry.  Would  you  go  down 
to  the  kitchen  and  choose  a  nice  little  dinner  for 
me?" 

"  I'll  ring  the  bell,  Miss  Dalrymple.  Alice  shall 
bring  it  to  you  on  a  tray  here,  if  you've  a  mind  to  eat 
it  in  the  nursery." 

"  But  I  do  want  you  to  choose  something ;  do  go 
yourself,  and  find  something  dainty.  Do,  nursie, 
please  nursie.  I  want  to  be  spoiled  a  little  bit ;  no 
one  ever  spoils  me  now  that  my  mamma  is  dead." 

**  Bless  the  child ! "  said  good-natured  and  im- 


FORSAKEN.  175 

suspicious  Nurse.  "  Of  course  I'll  go,  if  you  put  it 
that  way,  Missy.  Well,  take  care  of  baby,  Miss 
Flower.  Don't  attempt  to  carry  her;  hold  her 
steady  with  your  arm  firm  round  her  back.  I'll 
bring  you  your  dinner  in  ten  minutes  at  latest, 
Miss." 


CHAPTER  V. 

FORSAKEN. 

THE  moment  Nurse's  footsteps  died  away  Flower 
sprang  to  her  feet,  snatched  up  a  white  wool  shawl, 
which  lay  over  the  baby's  cot,  wrapped  it  round 
her,  and  flew  downstairs  with  the  little  creature  in 
her  arms. 

Out  through  a  side  door  which  stood  open  ran 
Flower,  down  by  the  shrubbery,  over  the  stile,  and 
in  a  few  moments  she  was  out  again  on  the  wide, 
wild,  lonely  moor  with  Polly's  pet  pressed  close  to 
her  beating  heart.  Long  before  Nurse  had  re 
turned  to  the  nursery  Flower  had  reached  the  moor, 
and  when  poor,  distracted  Nurse  discovered  her  loss, 
Flower  had  wriggled  herself  into  the  middle  of  a 
clump  of  young  oak-trees,  and  was  fondling  and  pet 
ting  little  Pearl,  who  sat  upright  on  her  knee.  From 
her  hiding-place  Flower  could  presently  hear  foot 
steps  and  voices,  but  none  of  them  came  near  her, 
and  for  the  present  baby  was  contented,  and  did 
not  cry.  After  a  time  the  footsteps  moved  further 
off,  and  Flower  peeped  from  her  shelter. 

"  Now,  baby,  come  on,"  she  said.  She  wrapped 
the  shawl  again  firmly  round  the  little  one,  and 
started  with  a  kind  of  trotting  motion  over  the  out 
skirts  of  the  moor.  She  was  intensely  excited,  and 


176  POLLY. 

her  cheeks  were  flushed  with  the  first  delicious  glow 
of  victory.  Oh,  how  sorry  Polly  would  be  now  for 
having  attempted  to  oppose  her.  Yes,  Polly  would 
know  now  that  Flower  Dalrymple  was  not  a  person 
to  be  trifled  with. 

She  was  really  a  strong  girl,  though  she  had  a 
peculiarly  fragile  look.  The  weight  of  the  three 
months'  old  baby  was  not  very  great,  and  for  a  time 
she  made  quite  rapid  progress.  After  she  had 
walked  about  a  mile  she  stood  still  to  consider  and 
to  make  her  plans.  No  more  ignorant  girl  in  all 
England  could  perhaps  be  found  than  this  same  poor 
silly,  revengeful  Flower ;  but  even  she,  with  all  her 
ideas  Australian,  and  her  knowledge  of  English  life 
and  ways  simply  null  and  void,  even  she  knew  that 
the  baby  could  not  live  for  a  long  time  without  food 
and  shelter  on  the  wide  common  land  which  lay 
around.  She  did  not  mean  to  steal  baby  for  always, 
but  she  thought  she  would  keep  her  for  a  month  or 
two,  until  Polly  was  well  frightened  and  repentant, 
and  then  she  would  send  her  back  by  some  kind, 
motherly  woman  whom  she  was  sure  to  come  across. 
As  to  herself,  she  had  fully  made  up  her  mind  never 
again  to  enter  the  doors  of  Sleepy  Hollow,  for  it 
would  be  impossible  for  her,  she  felt,  to  associate 
with  any  people  who  had  sat  down  to  dinner  with 
the  kitchen-maid.  Holding  the  baby  firmly  hi  her 
arms,  Flower  stood  and  hesitated.  The  warm  fleecy 
white  shawl  sheltered  little  Pearl  from  all  cold, 
and  for  the  present  she  slept  peacefully. 

"  I  must  try  and  find  some  town,"  thought  Flower. 
"  I  must  walk  to  some  town — the  nearest,  I  suppose 
. — with  baby.  Then  I  will  sell  one  of  my  rings,  and 
try  to  get  a  nice  woman  to  give  me  a  lodging.  If 
she  is  a  motherly  person — and  I  shall  certainly  look 
out  for  some  one  that  is — I  can  give  her  little  Pearl 


FORSAKEN. 

when  I  get  tired  of  her,  and  she  can  take  her  back 
to  Sleepy  Hollow.  But  I  won't  give  Pearl  up  for 
the  present ;  for,  in  the  first  place  she  amuses  me, 
and  hi  the  next  I  wish  Polly  to  be  well  punished. 
Now  I  wonder  which  is  the  nearest  way  to  the  town  ? 
If  I  were  at  Ballarat,  I  should  know  quickly  enough 
by  the  signposts  placed  at  intervals  all  over  the 
country,  but  they  don't  seem  to  have  anything  of  the 
sort  here  in  barbarous  England.  Now,  how  shall  I 
get  to  the  nearest  town  without  meeting  any  one 
who  would  be  likely  to  tell  Dr.  May  bright  ?  " 

Flower  had  scarcely  expressed  herself  in  this 
fashion  before  once  again  the  rough-looking  man 
crossed  her  path.  She  greeted  him  quite  joyfully. 

"  Oh  !  you're  just  the  person  I  want,"  she  ex 
claimed.  "  I've  got  my  purse  now,  and  a  little  money 
in  it.  "Would  you  like  to  earn  a  shilling  ?  " 

"  Surety,"  said  the  man.  "  But  I'd  a  sight  rather 
'arn  two,"  he  added. 

"  I'll  give  you  two.  I  have  not  got  much  money, 
but  I'll  certainly  give  you  two  shillings  if  you'll  help 
me  now.  I  have  got  a  little  baby  here — a  dear  little 
baby,  but  she's  rather  heavy.  I  am  running  away 
with  her  to  revenge  myself  on  somebody.  I  don't 
mind  telling  you  that,  for  you  look  like  an  outlaw 
yourself,  and  you'll  sympathize  with  me.  I  want 
you  to  carry  baby  for  me,  and  to  take  us  both  to  the 
nearest  town.  Do  you  hear  ?  Will  you  do  it  ?  " 

"  Sure-Jy,"  said  the  man,  favoring  Flower  with  a 
long,  peculiar  glance. 

"  Well,  here's  baby  ;  you  must  be  very  careful  of 
her.  I'll  give  you  three  shillings  after  you  have  taken 
her  and  me  to  the  nearest  town ;  and  if  you  are  really 
kind,  and  walk  quickly,  and  take  us  to  a  nice  restau 
rant  where  I  can  have  a  good  dinner — for  I  am 
awfully  hungry — you  shall  have  something  to  eat 


178  POLLY. 

yourself  as  well.  Now  walk  on  in  front  of  me,  please, 
and  don't  waste  any  more  time,  for  it  would  be 
dreadful  if  we  were  discovered." 

The  man  shambled  on  at  once  in  front  of  Flower ; 
his  strong  arms  supported  little  Pearl  comfortably, 
and  she  slumbered  on  in  an  unbroken  dream. 

The  bright  sunlight  had  now  faded,  the  short 
October  day  was  drawing  in,  the  glory  and  heat  of 
the  morning  had  long  departed,  and  Flower,  whose 
green  cloth  dress  was  very  light  in  texture,  felt  her 
self  shivering  in  the  sudden  cold. 

"  Are  you  certain  you  are  going  to  the  nearest 
town  ?  "  she  called  out  to  the  man. 

"  Sure-Jy,"  he  responded  back  to  her.  He  was 
stepping  along  at  a  swinging  pace,  and  Flower  was 
very  tired,  and  found  it  difficult  to  keep  up  with 
him.  Having  begged  of  him  so  emphatically  to 
hurry,  she  did  not  like  to  ask  him  now  to  moderate 
his  steps.  To  keep  up  with  him  at  all  she  had  al 
most  to  run ;  and  she  was  now  not  only  hungry, 
cold,  and  tired,  but  the  constant  quick  motion  took 
her  breath  away.  They  had  left  the  border  of  the 
moor,  and  were  now  in  the  middle  of  a  most  desolate 
piece  of  country.  As  Flower  looked  around  her  she 
shivered  with  the  first  real  sensation  of  loneliness 
she  had  ever  known.  The  moor  seemed  to  fill  the 
whole  horizon.  Desolate  moor  and  lowering  sky — 
there  seemed  to  be  nothing  else  in  all  the  world. 

"  Where  is  the  nearest  town  ?  "  she  gasped  at  last. 
"  Oh,  what  a  long,  long  way  off  it  is ! " 

"  It's  miles  away  ! "  said  the  man,  suddenly  stop 
ping  and  turning  round  fiercely  upon  her  ;  "  but  ef 
you're  hungry,  there's  a  hut  yer  to  the  left  where 
my  mother  lives.  She'll  give  you  a  bit  of  supper 
and  a  rest,  ef  so  be  as  you  can  pay  her  well." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  can  pay  her,"  responded  Flower.    The 


FORSAKEN.  179 

thought  of  any  shelter  or  any  food  was  grateful  to 
the  fastidious  girl  now. 

"  I  am  very  hungry  and  very  tired,"  she  said.  « I 
will  gladly  rest  in  your  mother's  cottage.  Where 
is  it  ?  " 

"  I  said  as  it  wor  a  hut.  There  are  two  dawgs 
there  :  be  you  afeard  ?  " 

"  Of  dogs  ?  I  am  not  afraid  of  any  thing !  "  said 
Flower,  curling  her  short  lip  disdainfully. 

"  You  be  a  girl !  "  responded  the  man.  He  sham 
bled  on  again  in  front,  and  presently  they  came  in 
sight  of  the  deserted  hermit's  hut,  where  Polly  and 
Maggie  a  few  weeks  before  had  been  led  captive. 
A  woman  was  standing  in  the  doorway,  and  by  her 
side,  sitting  up  on  their  haunches,  were  two  ugly, 
lean-looking  dogs. 

"  Down,  Cinder  and  Flinder  !  "  said  the  woman. 
"  Down,  you  brutes  !  Now,  Patrick,  what  have  you 
been  up  to  ?  Whatever's  that  in  your  arms,  and 
who's  a-follering  of  yer?" 

"  This  yer's  a  babby,"  said  the  man,  "  and  this 
yer's  a  girl.  She,"  pointing  to  Flower,  "  wants  to 
be  took  to  the  nearest  town,  and  she  have  money  to 
pay,  she  says." 

"  Oh !  she  have  money  to  pay  ?  "  said  the  wife  of 
Micah  Jones — for  it  was  she.  "  Them  as  has  money 
to  pay  is  oilers  and  oilers  welcome.  Come  in,  and 
set  you  down  by  the  fire,  hinney.  Well,  well,  and 
so  you  has  brought  a  babby  with  you !  Give  it  to 
me,  Pat.  What  do  you  know,  you  great  hulking 
feller !  about  the  tending  of  babbies  ?  " 

The  man  gladly  relinquished  his  charge,  then 
pointed  backwards  with  his  finger  at  Flower. 

"  She's  cold  and  'ungry,  and  she  has  money  to 
pay,"  he  said. 

f*  Come  in,  then,  Missy,  come  in ;  yer's  a  good  fire, 


180  POLLY. 

and  a  hunk  of  cheese,  and  some  brown  bread,  and 
there'll  be  soup  by-and-by.  Yes,"  winking  at  her 
son,  "  there'll  be  good  strong  soup  by-and-by." 

Flower,  who  had  come  up  close  to  the  threshold 
of  the  hut,  now  drew  back  a  step  or  two.  At  sight 
of  the  woman  her  courage  had  revived,  hsr  feeling  of 
extreme  loneliness  had  vanished,  and  a  good  deal 
of  the  insolence  which  of  ten  marked  her  bearing  had 
in  consequence  returned  to  her. 

"  I  won't  go  in,"  she  said.  "  It  looks  dirty  in 
there,  and  I  hate  dirt.  No,  I  won't  go  in  !  Bring 
me  some  food  out  here,  please.  Of  course  I'll  pay 
you." 

"  Highty-tighty  !  "  said   the   woman.     "  And  is 
wee  babby  to  stay  out  in  the  cold  night  air  ?  " 

"  I  forgot  about  the  baby,"  said  Flower.  "  Gire 
her  to  me.  Is  the  night  air  bad  for  babies'?"  she 
asked,  looking  up  inquiringly  at  the  great  rough 
woman  who  stood  by  her  side. 

Flower's  utter  and  fearless  indifference  to  even 
the  possibility  of  danger  had  much  the  same  effect 
on  Mrs.  Jones  that  it  had  upon  her  son.  They  both 
owned  to  a  latent  feeling  of  uneasiness  in  her  pres 
ence.  Had  she  showed  the  least  trace  of  fear ;  had 
she  dreaded  them,  or  tried  in  any  way  to  soften 
them,  they  would  have  known  how  to  manage  her. 
But  Flower  addressed  them  much  as  she  would 
have  done  menials  in  her  kitchen  at  home.  The 
mother,  as  well  as  the  son,  muttered  under  her 
breath — "  Never  see'd  such  a  gel !  "  She  dropped 
the  baby  into  Flower's  outstretched  arms,  and  an 
swered  her  query  in  a  less  surly  tone  than  usual. 

"  For  sure  night  air  is  bad  for  babes,  and  this 
little  'un  is  young.  Yes,  werry  young  and  purty." 

The  woman  pulled  aside  the  white  fluffy  shawl ; 


FORSAKEN.  181 

two  soft  clear  brown  eyes  looked  up  at  her,  and  a 
little  mouth  was  curved  to  a  radiant  smile. 

"  For  sure  she's  purty,"  said  the  woman.  "  Look, 
Patrick.  She  minds  me  o' — Well,  never  mind. 
Missy,  it  ain't  good  for  a  babe  like  that  to  be  out  in 
the  night  air.  You're  best  in  the  house,  and  so  is 
the  babe.  The  dawgs  shan't  touch  yer.  Come  into 
the  house,  and  I'll  give  yer  what  supper's  going, 
and  the  babe,  pretty  crittur,  shall  have  a  drink  of 
milk." 

"  I  would  not  injure  the  baby,"  said  Flower.  She 
held  both  arms  firmly  round  it,  and  entered  the 
smoky,  dismal  hut. 

The  wife  of  Micah  Jones  moved  a  stool  in  front  of 
the  fire,  pushed  Flower  rather  roughly  down  on  it, 
and  then  proceeded  to  cut  a  thick  hunch  of  sour 
bread  and  cheese.  This  was  quite  the  coarsest  food 
Flower  had  ever  eaten,  and  yet  she  never  thought 
anything  more  delicious.  While  she  ate  the  woman 
sat  down  opposite  her. 

"I'll  take  the  babe  now  and  feed  it,"  she  said. 
"  The  pretty  dear  must  be  hungry." 

It  was  not  little  Pearl's  way  to  cry.  It  was  her 
fashion  to  look  tranquilly  into  all  faces,  and  to  take 
calmly  every  event,  whether  adverse  or  otherwise. 
When  she  looked  at  Flower  she  smiled,  and  she 
smiled  again  into  the  face  of  the  rough  woman  who, 
in  consequence,  fed  her  tenderly  with  the  best  she 
had  to  give. 

"  Is  the  soup  done  ?  "  said  the  rough  man,  suddenly 
coming  forward.  "  It's  soup  I'm  arter.  It's  soup 
as'll  put  life  into  Miss,  and  give  her  a  mind  to  walk 
them  miles  to  the  nearest  town." 

The  woman  laughed  back  at  her  son. 

"  The  soup's  in  the  pot,"  she  said.  "  You  can  give 
it  a  stir,  Pat,  if  you  will.  Nathaniel  will  be  in  by- 


182  POLLY. 

and-by,  and  he'll  want  his  share.  But  you  can  take 
a  bowl  now,  if  you  like,  and  give  one  to  Missy." 

"  Ay,"  said  the  man,  "  soup's  good ;  puts  life  into 
a  body." 

He  fetched  two  little  yellow  bowls,  filled,  one  for 
Flower,  stirring  it  first  with  a  pewter  spoon. 

"  This'll  put  life  into  you,  Miss,"  he  said. 

He  handed  the  bowl  of  soup  to  the  young  girl. 
All  this  time  the  woman  was  bending  over  the  baby. 
Suddenly  she  raised  her  head. 

"  'Tis  a  bonny  babe,"  she  said.  "  Ef  I  was  you, 
Pat,  I  wouldn't  stir  Missy's  soup.  I'd  give  her  your 
own  bowl.  I  has  no  quarrel  with  Miss,  and  the  babe 
is  fair.  Give  her  your  own  soup,  Patrick." 

"  It's  all  right,  mother,  Miss  wouldn't  eat  as  much 
as  is  in  my  bowl.  You  ain't  'ungry  enough  for 
that,  be  you,  Miss  ?  " 

"  I  am  very  hungry,"  said  Flower,  who  was  grate 
fully  drinking  the  hot  liquid.  "  I  could  not  touch 
this  food  if  I  was  not  very  hungry.  If  I  want  more 
soup  I  suppose  I  can  have  some  more  from  the  pot 
where  this  was  taken.  What  is  the  matter,  woman  ? 
What  are  you  staring  at  me  for  ?  " 

"  I  think  nought  at  all  of  you,"  said  the  woman, 
frowning,  and  drawing  back,  for  Flower's  tone  was 
very  rude.  "  But  the  babe  is  bonny.  Here,  take 
her  back,  she's  like — but  never  mind.  You'll  be 
sleepy,  may-be,  and  'ud  like  to  rest  a  bit.  I  meant 
yer  no  harm,  but  Patrick's  powerful,  and  he  and  Nat, 
they  does  what  they  likes.  They're  the  sons  of 
Micah  Jones,  and  he  was  a  strong  man  in  his  day. 
You'd  like  to  sleep,  may-be,  Missy.  Here,  Patrick, 
take  the  bowl  from  the  girl's  hand." 

"  I  do  feel  very  drowsy,"  said  Flower.  "  I  sup 
pose  it  is  from  being  out  all  day.  This  hut  is  smoky 
and  dirty,  but  I'll  just  have  a  doze  for  five  minutes. 


FORSAKEN.  183 

Please,  Patrick,  wake  me  at  the  end  of  five  minutes, 
for  I  must,  whatever  happens,  reach  the  nearest 
town  before  night." 

As  Flower  spoke  her  eyes  closed,  and  the  woman, 
laying  her  back  on  some  straw,  put  the  baby  into 
her  arms. 

"  She'll  sleep  sound,  pretty  dear,"  she  said.  "  Ef 
I  was  you  I  wouldn't  harm  her,  just  for  the  sake  of 
the  babe,"  she  concluded. 

"  Why,  mother,  what's  took  you  ?  I  won't  hurt 
Missy.  It's  her  own  fault  ef  she  runs  away,  and 
steals  the  baby.  That  baby  belongs  to  the  doctor 
what  lives  in  the  Hollow ;  it's  nought  special,  and 
you  needn't  be  took  up  with  it.  Ah,  here  comes 
Nathaniel.  Nat,  I've  found  a  lass  wandering  on  the 
moor,  and  I  brought  her  home,  and  now  the  mother 
don't  want  us  to  share  the  booty." 

Nathaniel  Jones  was  a  man  of  very  few  words 
indeed.  He  had  a  fiercer,  wilder  eye  than  his 
brother,  and  his  evidently  was  the  dominant  and 
ruling  spirit. 

"  The  moon's  rising,"  he  said ;  "  she'll  be  at  her 
full  in  half,  an  hour.  Do  your  dooty,  mother,  for  we 
must  be  out  of  this,  bag  and  baggage,  in  half  an 
hour." 

Without  a  word  or  a  sigh,  or  even  a  glance  of  re 
morse,  Mrs.  Jones  took  the  cap  from  Flower's  head, 
and  feeling  around  her  neck  discovered  the  gold 
chain  which  held  the  little  bag  of  valuables.  With 
out  opening  this  she  slipped  it  into  her  pocket. 
Flower's  dainty  shoes  were  then  removed,  and  the 
woman  looked  covetously  at  the  long,  fine,  cloth 
dress,  but  shook  her  head  over  it. 

"  I'd  wake  her  if  I  took  it,"  she  said. 

"  No,  you  wouldn't,  I  drugged  the  soup  well,"  said 
Pat 


184  POLLY. 

"  Well,  anyhow,  I'll  leave  her  her  dress.  There's 
nought  more  but  a  handkerchief  with  a  bit  of  lace 
on  it." 

"  Take  the  baby's  shawl,"  said  Nathaniel,  "  and 
let  us  be  off.  If  the  moon  goes  down  we  won't  see 
the  track.  Here,  mother,  I'll  help  myself  to  the 
wrap." 

"  No,  you  won't,"  said  the  woman.  "  You  don't 
touch  the  babe  with  the  pale  face  and  the  smile  of 
Heaven.  I'm  ready  ;  let's  go." 

The  dogs  were  called,  and  the  entire  party  strode 
in  single  file  along  a  narrow  path,  which  led  away  in 
a  westerly  direction  over  Peg-Top  Moor. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

WITHOUT  HER  TKEASUEE. 

"  THERE  is  a  great  fuss  made  about  it  all,"  said 
Polly. 

This  was  her  remark  when  her  father  left  the 
pleasant  picnic  dinner  and  drove  away  over  the  moor 
in  search  of  Flower. 

"  There  is  a  great  fuss  made  over  it  all.  What  is 
Flower  more  than  any  other  girl  ?  Why  should  she 
rule  us  all,  and  try  to  make  things  uncomfortable 
for  us  ?  No,  David,  you  need  not  look  at  me  like 
that.  If  Flower  has  got  silly  Australian  notions  in 
her  head,  she  had  better  get  rid  of  them  as  fast  as 
possible.  She  is  living  with  English  people  now,  and 
English  people  all  the  world  over  won't  put  up  with 
nonsense." 

"It  isn't  Flower's  ways  I  mean,"  said  David. 
tt  Her  ways  and  her  thoughts  aren't  much,  but  it's 


WITHOUT  HER  TREASURE.  185 

— it's  when  she  gets  into  a  passion.  There's  no  use 
talking  about  it — you  have  done  it  now,  Polly  !  but 
Flower's  passions  are  awful." 

David's  eyes  filled  slowly  with  tears. 

"  Oh,  you  are  a  cry-baby,"  said  Polly.  She  knew 
she  was  making  herself  disagreeable  all  round.  In 
her  heart  she  admired  and  even  loved  David ;  but 
nothing  would  induce  her  to  say  she  was  sorry  for 
any  part  she  had  taken  in  Flower's  disappearance. 

"  Everything  is  as  tiresome  as  possible,"  she  said, 
addressing  her  special  ally,  Maggie.  "  There,  Mag, 
you  need  not  stare  at  me.  Your  brain  will  get  as 
small  as  ever  again  if  you  don't  take  care,  and  I  know 
staring  in  that  stupid  way  you  have  is  particularly 
weakening  to  the  brain.  You  had  better  help  George 
to  pack  up,  for  I  suppose  Nell  is  right,  and  we  must 
all  begin  to  think  of  getting  home.  Oh,  dear,  what 
a  worry  it  is  to  have  to  put  up  with  the  whims  of 
other  people.  Yes,  I  understand  at  last  why  father 
hesitated  to  allow  the  strangers  to  come  here." 

"  I  wouldn't  grumble  any  more,  if  I  were  you, 
Polly,"  said  Helen.  "See  how  miserable  David 
looks.  I  do  hope  father  will  soon  find  Flower.  I 
did  not  know  that  David  was  so  very  fond  of 
her." 

"  David  is  nervous,"  retorted  Polly,  shortly.  Then 
she  turned  to  and  packed  in  a  vigorous  manner,  and 
very  soon  after  the  little  party  started  on  their  return 
walk  home.  It  was  decidedly  a  dull  walk.  Polly's 
gay  spirits  were  fitful  and  forced ;  the  rest  of  the 
party  did  not  attempt  to  enjoy  themselves.  David 
lagged  quite  behind  the  others ;  and  poor  Maggie  con 
fided  to  George  that  somehow  or  other,  she  could  not 
tell  why,  they  were  all  turning  their  eyes  reproach 
ful  like  on  her.  The  sun  had  gone  in  now  in  the 
heavens,  and  the  children,  who  had  no  sunshine  i* 


186  POLLY. 

their  hearts  just  then,  had  a  vivid  consciousness  that 
it  was  late  autumn,  and  that  the  summer  was  quite 
at  an  end. 

As  they  neared  the  rise  in  the  moor  which  hid 
Sleepy  Hollow  from  view,  David  suddenly  changed 
his  position  from  the  rear  to  the  van.  As  they  ap 
proached  the  house  he  stooped  down,  picked  up  a 
small  piece  of  paper,  looked  at  it,  uttered  a  cry  of 
fear  and  recognition,  and  ran  off  as  fast  as  ever  he 
could  to  the  house. 

"  What  a  queer  boy  David  is  ! "  was  on  Polly's 
lips ;  but  she  could  scarcely  say  the  words  before  he 
came  out  again.  His  face  was  deadly  white,  he 
shook  all  over,  and  the  words  he  tried  to  say  only 
trembled  on  his  lips. 

"  What  is  it,  David  ?  "  said  the  twins,  running  up 
to  him. 

"  She'll  believe  me  now,"  said  David. 

He  panted  violently,  his  teeth  chattered. 

"  Oh !  David,  you  frighten  us !  What  can  be  the 
matter  ?  Polly,  come  here  1  Nell,  come  and  tell  us 
what  is  the  matter  with  David." 

The  elder  girls,  and  the  rest  of  the  children,  col 
lected  in  the  porch.  Polly,  the  tallest  of  all,  looked 
over  the  heads  of  the  others.  She  caught  sight  of 
David's  face,  and  a  sudden  pain,  a  queer  sense  of 
fear,  and  the  awakening  of  a  late  remorse,  filled  her 
breast. 

"  What  is  it,  David  ?  "  she  asked,  with  the  others ; 
but  her  voice  shook,  and  was  scarcely  audible. 

"  She's  done  it ! "  said  David.  "  The  baby's  gone ! 
It's  Flower  1  She  was  in  one  of  her  passions,  and 
she  has  taken  the  baby  away.  I  said  she  wasn't 
like  other  girls.  Nurse  thinks  perhaps  the  baby'll 
die.  What  is  it  ?— oh,  Polly  !  what  is  it ! "  For 
Polly  had  given  one  short  scream,  and,  pushing 


WITHOUT  HER  TREASURE.       187 

David  and  every  one  aside,  rushed  wildly  into  the 
house. 

She  did  not  hear  the  others  calling  after  her ;  she 
heard  nothing  but  a  surging  as  of  great  waves  in  her 
ears,  and  David's  words  echoing  along  the  passages 
and  up  the  stairs — "  perhaps  the  baby  will  die !  " 
She  did  not  see  her  father,  who  held  out  his  arms  to 
detain  her.  She  pushed  Alice  aside  without  know 
ing  that  she  touched  her.  In  a  twinkling  she  was 
at  the  nursery  door ;  in  a  twinkling  she  was  kneel 
ing  by  the  empty  cot,  and  clasping  the  little  frilled 
pillow  on  which  baby's  head  used  to  rest  passion 
ately  to  her  lips. 

"  It's  true,  then  !  "  she  gasped,  at  last.  "  I  know 
now  what  David  meant ;  I  know  now  why  he  warned 
me.  Oh,  nursie !  nursieM  it's  my  fault !  " 

"  No,  no,  my  darling  !  "  said  Nurse ;  "  It's  that 
dreadful  young  lady.  But  she'll  bring  her  back. 
Sure,  what  else  could  she  do,  lovey  ?  She'll  bring 
the  little  one  back,  and,  by  the  blessing  of  the  good 
God,  she'll  be  none  the  worse  for  this.  Don't  take 
on  so,  Miss  Polly!  Don't  look  like  that,  dear! 
Why,  your  looks  fairly  scare  me." 

« I'll  be  better  in  a  minute,"  said  Polly.  «  This 
is  no  time  for  feelings.  I'll  be  quiet  in  a  minute. 
Have  you  got  any  cold  water?  There's  such  a 
horrid  loud  noise  in  my  ears." 

She  rushed  across  the  room,  poured  a  quantity  of 
water  into  a  basin,  and  laved  her  face  and  head. 

"  Now  I  can  think,"  she  said.  "  What  did  Flower 
do,  Nurse  ?  Tell  me  everything ;  tell  me,  hi  very 
few  words,  please,  for  there  isn't  a  moment — there 
isn't  half  a  moment — to  lose." 

"  It  was  this  way,  dear :  she  came  into  the  room, 
and  took  baby  into  her  arms,  and  asked  for  some 
dinner.  She  didn't  seem  no  way  taken  with  baby 


188  POLLY. 

at  first,  but  when  I  told  her  how  much  you  loved 
our  little  Miss  Pearl,  she  asked  me  to  give  her  to 
her  quite  greedy-like,  and  ordered  me  to  fetch  some 
dinner  for  herself,  for  she  was  starving,  she  said.  I 
offered  that  Alice  should  bring  it ;  but  no,  she  was 
all  that  I  should  choose  something  as  would  tempt 
her  appetite,  and  she  coaxed  with  that  pretty  way 
she  have,  and  I  went  down  to  the  kitchen  myself  to 
please  her.  I'll  never  forgive  myself,  never,  to  the 
longest  day  I  live.  I  wasn't  ten  minutes  gone,  but 
when  I  come  back  with  a  nice  little  tray  of  curry, 
and  some  custard  pie,  Miss  Flower  and  the  baby  were 
away.  That's  all — they  hasn't  been  seen  since." 

"  How  long  ago  is  that,  Nurse  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't  rightly  tell  you,  dearie — maybe  two 
hours  back.  I  ran  all  round  the  moor  anywhere 
near,  and  so  did  every  servant  in  the  house,  but  since 
the  Doctor  come  in  they  has  done  the  thing  properly. 
Now  where  are  you  going,  Miss  Polly,  love  ?  " 

"  To  my  father.  I  wish  this  horrid  noise  wouldn't 
go  on  in  my  head.  Don't  worry  me,  Nurse.  I  know 
it  was  my  fault.  I  wouldn't  listen  to  the  warning, 
and  I  would  provoke  her,  but  don't  scold  me  now 
until  I  have  done  my  work." 

Polly  rushed  downstairs." 

"  Where's  father  ?  "  she  asked  of  Bunny,  who  was 
sobbing  violently,  and  clinging  in  a  frantic  manner 
to  Firefly's  skirts. 

« I— I  don't  know.     He's  out." 

"  He's  away  on  the  moor,"  said  Fly.  "  Polly,  are 
you  really  anxious  about  baby  Pearl  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  time  to  be  anxious,"  said  Polly.  "  I 
must  find  her  first.  I'll  tell  you  then  if  I'm  anxioua 
Where's  Nell,  where  are  the  twins  ?  " 

"  On  the  moor ;  they  all  went  out  with  father." 

«  Which  moor,  the  South  or  Peg-Top  ?  " 


WITHOUT  HER  TREASURE.  189 

«I  think  the  South  moor." 

"  All  right,  I'm  going  out  too.  What's  the  mat 
ter,  Fly  ?  Oh,  you're  not  to  come." 

"  Please,  please,  it's  so  horrid  in  the  house,  and 
Bunny  does  make  my  dress  so  soppy  with  crying 
into  it." 

"  You're  not  to  come.  You  are  to  stay  here  and 
do  your  best,  your  very  best,  for  father  and  the 
others  when  they  come  home.  If  they  don't  meet 
me,  say  I've  gone  to  look  for  baby  and  for  Flower. 
I'll  come  back  when  I've  found  them.  If  they  find 
baby  and  Flower,  they  might  ask  to  have  the  church 
bells  rung,  then  I'll  know.  Don't  stare  at  me  like 
that,  Fly ;  it  was  my  fault,  so  I  must  search  until  I 
find  them." 

Polly  ran  out  of  the  house  and  down  the  lawn. 
Once  again  she  was  out  on  the  moor.  The  great 
solitary  commons  stretched  to  right  and  left ;  they 
were  everywhere,  they  filled  the  whole  horizon,  ex 
cept  just  where  Sleepy  Hollow  lay,  with  its  belt  of 
trees,  its  cultivated  gardens,  and  just  beyond  the 
little  village  and  the  church  with  the  square,  gray 
tower.  There  was  a  great  lump  in  Polly's  throat, 
and  a  mist  before  her  eyes.  The  dreadful  beating 
was  still  going  on  in  her  heart,  and  the  surging, 
ceaseless  waves  of  sound  In  her  ears. 

Suddenly  she  fell  on  her  knees. 

"  Please,  God,  give  me  back  little  Pearl.  Please, 
God,  save  little  Pearl.  I  don't  want  anything  else  ; 
I  don't  even  want  father  to  forgive  me,  if  you  will 
save  little  Pearl." 

Most  earnest  prayers  bring  a  sense  of  comfort,  and 
Polly  did  not  feel  quite  so  lonely  when  she  stood 
again  on  her  feet,  with  the  bracken  and  the  fern  all 
round  her. 

She  tried  hard  now  to  collect  her  thoughts ;  she 


190  POLLY. 

made  a  yaliant  effort  to  feel  calm  and  reasonable. 

"  I  can  do  nothing  if  I  get  so  excited,"  she  said  to 
herself.  "I  must  just  fight  with  my  anxious  spirit. 
My  heart  must  stay  quiet,  for  my  brain  has  got  to 
work  now.  Let  me  see !  where  has  Flower  taken 
baby  ?  Father  and  Nell  and  the  others  are  all 
searching  the  South  moor,  so  I  will  go  on  to  Peg-Top. 
I  will  walk  slowly,  and  I  will  look  behind  every  clump 
of  trees,  and  I  will  call  Flower's  name  now  and  then ; 
for  I  am  sure,  I  am  quite,  quite  sure  that  however 
dreadful  her  passion  may  have  been,  if  Flower  is  the 
least  like  me,  she  will  be  dreadfully  sorry  by  now — 
dreadfully  sorry  and  dreadfully  frightened — so  if  she 
hears  me  calling  she  will  be  sure  to  answer.  Oh, 
dear  !  oh,  dear !  here  is  my  heart  speaking  again,  and 
my  head  is  in  a  whirl,  and  the  noises  are  coming  back 
into  my  ears.  Oh !  how  fearfully  I  hate  Flower ! 
How  could  she,  how  could  she  have  taken  our  dar 
ling  little  baby  away  ?  And  yet — and  yet  I  think 
I'd  forgive  Flower ;  I  think  I'd  try  to  love  her ;  I 
think  I'd  even  tell  her  that  I  was  the  one  who  had 
done  most  wrong ;  I  think  I'd  even  go  on  my  knees 
and  beg  Flower's  pardon,  if  only  I  could  hold  baby 
to  my  heart  again !  " 

By  this  time  Polly  was  crying  bitterly.  These 
tears  did  the  poor  child  good,  relieving  the  pressure 
on  her  brain,  and  enabling  her  to  think  calmly  and 
coherently.  While  this  tempest  of  grief,  however, 
effected  these  good  results,  it  certainly  did  not  im 
prove  her  powers  of  observation ;  the  fast-flowing 
tears  blinded  her  eyes,  and  she  stumbled  along  com 
pletely  forgetting  the  dangerous  and  uneven  charac 
ter  of  the  ground  over  which  she  walked. 

It  was  now  growing  dusk,  and  the  dim  light  also 
added  to  poor  Polly's  dangers.  Peg-Top  Moor  had 
m^ny  tracks  leading  in  all  d_irections.  Polly  knew 


MAGGIE  TO  TflE  RESCI7E. 

several  of  these,  and  where  they  led,  but  she  had  now 
left  all  the  beaten  paths,  and  the  consequence  was 
that  she  presently  found  herself  uttering  a  sharp  and 
frightened  cry,  and  discovered  that  she  had  fallen 
down  a  fairly-steep  descent.  She  was  slightly 
stunned  by  her  fall,  and  for  a  moment  or  two  did  not 
attempt  to  move.  Then  a  dull  pain  in  her  ankle 
caused  her  to  put  her  hand  to  it,  and  to  struggle 
giddily  to  a  sitting  position. 

"  I'll  be  able  to  stand  in  a  minute,"  she  said  to  her 
self  ;  and  she  pressed  her  hand  to  her  forehead,  and 
struggled  bravely  against  the  surging,  waving  sounds 
which  had  returned  to  her  head. 

"  I  can't  sit  here !  "  she  murmured ;  and  she  tried 
to  get  to  her  feet. 

In  vain ! — a  sharp  agony  brought  her,  trembling 
and  almost  fainting,  once  more  to  a  sitting  posture. 
What  was  she  to  do? — how  was  she  now  to  find 
Flower  and  the  baby  ?  She  was  alone  on  the  moor, 
unable  to  stir.  Perhaps  her  ankle  was  broken ;  cer 
tainly,  it  was  sprained  very  badly. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MAGGIE  TO  THE  BESCTJE. 

N^  the  Maybrights  returned  home  from  their 
disastrous  picnic  at  Troublous  Times  Castle,  Maggie 
and  George  brought  up  the  rear.  In  consequence 
of  their  being  some  little  way  behind  the  others, 
Maggie  did  not  at  once  know  of  the  fact  of  Flower's 
disappearance  with  the  baby.  She  was  naturally  a 
slow  girl ;  ideas  came  to  her  at  rare  intervals ;  she 
even  received  startling  and  terrible  news  with  a  cer- 


POLLY. 

;  iin  outward  stolidity  and  calm.  Still,  Maggie  was 
not  an  altogether  purposeless  and  thoughtless 
maiden ;  thoughts  occasionally  drifted  her  way  ;  ideas, 
when  once  born  in  her  heart,  were  slow  to  die. 
When  affection  took  root  there  it  became  a  very 
sturdy  plant.  If  there  was  any  one  in  the  world 
whom  Maggie  adored,  it  was  her  dear  young  mis 
tress,  Miss  Polly  May  bright.  Often  at  night  Maggio 
awoke,  and  thought,  with  feelings  of  almost  worship, 
of  this  bright,  impulsive  young  lady.  How  delight- 
ful  that  week  had  been  when  she  and  Polly  had 
cooked,  and  housekeeped,  and  made  cakes  and  pud 
dings  together!  Would  any  one  but  Polly  have 
forgiven  her  for  taking  that  pound  to  save  her 
mother's  furniture?  Would  any  one  in  all  the 
world,  except  that  dear,  warm-hearted,  impulsive 
Polly,  have  promised  to  do  without  a  winter  jacket 
in  order  to  return  that  money  to  the  housekeeping 
fund  ?  Maggie  felt  that,  stupid  as  she  knew  herself 
to  be,  slow  as  she  undoubtedly  was,  she  could  really 
do  great  things  for  Polly.  In  Polly's  cause  her 
brain  could  awake,  the  inertia  which  more  or  less 
characterized  her  could  depart.  For  Polly  she  could 
undoubtedly  become  a  brave  and  active  young  per 
son. 

She  was  delighted  with  herself  when  she  assisted 
Miss  Maybright  to  descend  from  her  bedroom  win 
dow,  and  to  escape  with  her  on  to  the  moor,  but  her 
delight  and  sense  of  triumph  had  not  been  proof 
against  the  solitude  of  the  sad  moor,  against  the 
hunger  which  was  only  to  be  satisfied  with  berries 
and  spring  water,  and,  above  all,  against  the  terrible 
apparition  of  the  wife  of  Micah  Jones.  What  Maggie 
went  through  in  the  hermit's  hut,  what  terrors  she 
experienced,  were  only  known  to  Maggie's  own  heart. 
When,  however,  Mrs.  Ricketts  got  back  her 


MAGGIE  TO  THE  RESCUE. 

daughter  from  that  terrible  evening's  experience, 
she  emphatically  declared  that  "  Mag  were  worse 
nor  useless ;  that  she  seemed  daft-like,  and  a'most 
silly,  and  that  never,  never  to  her  dying  day,  would 
she  allow  Mag  to  set  foot  on  them  awful  lonely  com 
mons  again." 

Mrs.  Ricketts,  however,  was  not  a  particularly 
obstinate  character,  and  when  Polly's  bright  face 
peeped  round  her  door,  and  Polly  eagerly,  and  almost 
curtly,  demanded  that  Maggie  should  that  very 
moment  accompany  her  on  a  delightful  picnic  to 
Troublous  Times  Castle,  and  Maggie  herself,  with 
sparkling  eyes  and  burning  cheeks,  was  all  agog  to 
go,  and  was  now  inclined  to  pooh-pooh  the  terrors 
she  had  endured  in  the  hermit's  hut,  there  was  noth 
ing  for  Mrs.  Ricketts  to  do  but  to  forget  her  vow 
and  send  off  the  two  young  people  with  her  bless 
ing. 

"  Eh,  but  she's  a  dear  young  lady,"  she  said,  under 
her  breath,  apostrophizing  Miss  May  bright.  "  And 
Mag  do  set  wonderful  store  by  her,  and  no  mistake. 
It  ain't  every  young  lady  as  'ud  think  of  my  Maggie 
when  she's  going  out  pleasuring ;  but  bless  Miss 
Polly !  she  seems  fairly  took  up  with  my  poor  gel." 

No  face  could  look  more  radiant  than  Maggie's 
when  she  started  for  the  picnic^  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  no  young  person  could  look  more  thoroughly 
sulky  ai*i  downcast  than  she  did  on  her  return. 
Mrs.  Ricketts  was  just  dishing  up  some  potatoes  for 
supper  when  Maggie  flung  open  the  door  of  the  tiny 
cottage,  walked  across  the  room,  and  flung  herself 
on  a  little  settle  by  the  fire. 

"  You're  hungry,  Mag,"  said  Mrs.  Ricketts,  without 
looking  up. 

"  No,  I  bean't,"  replied  Maggie,  shortly. 

"  Eh,  I  suppose  you  got  your  fill  of  good  things 


194  i>OLLY. 

out  with  the  young  ladies  and  gentlemen.  It  ain't 
your  poor  mother's  way  to  have  a  bit  of  luck  like 
that,  and  you  never  thought,  I  suppose,  of  putting  a 
slice  or  two  of  plum  cake,  or  maybe  the  half  of  a 
chicken,  in  your  pocket,  as  a  bit  of  a  relish  for  your 
mother's  supper.  No,  no,  that  ain't  your  way,  Mag ; 
you're  all  for  self,  and  that  I  will  say." 

"  No,  I  ain't,  mother.  You  has  no  call  to  talk  so. 
How  could  I  hide  away  chicken  and  plum  cake,  under 
Miss  Polly's  nose,  so  to  speak.  I  was  setting  nigh 
to  Miss  Polly,  mother,  jest  about  the  very  middle  of 
the  feast.  I  had  a  place  of  honor  close  up  to  Miss 
Polly,  mother." 

"  Eh,  to  be  sure  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Ricketts. 

She  stopped  dishing  up  the  potatoes,  wiped  her 
brow,  and  turned  to  look  at  her  daughter,  with  a  slow 
expression  of  admiration  in  her  gaze. 

"  Eh,"  she  continued,  "  you  has  a  way  about  you, 
Mag,  with  all  your  contrariness.  Miss  Polly  May- 
bright  thinks  a  sight  on  you,  Mag ;  seems  to  me  as  if 
maybe  she'd  adopt  you,  and  turn  you  into  a  real 
lady.  My  word,  I  have  read  of  such  things  in  story 
books." 

"  You  had  better  go  on  dishing  up  your  supper, 
mother,  and  not  be  talking  nonsense  like  that.  Miss 
Polly  is  a  very  good  young  lady,  but  she  hasn't  no 
thought  of  folly  of  that  sort.  Eh,  dear  me,"  continued 
Maggie,  yawning  prodigiously,  "  I'm  a  bit  tired,  and 
no  mistake." 

"  That's  always  the  way,"  responded  Mrs.  Ricketts. 
"  Tired,  and  not  a  word  to  say  after  your  pleasuring  •, 
no  talking  about  what  happened,  and  what  Miss 
Helen  wore,  and  if  Miss  Firefly  has  got  on  her  winter 
worsted  stockings  yet,  and  not  a  mention  of  them 
foreigners  as  we're  all  dying  to  hear  of,  and  not  a 
•\vord  of  what  victuals  you  ate,  nor  nothing.  You'rC 


MAGGIE  TO  THE  RESCUE.  195 

a  selfish  girl,  Maggie  Ricketts,  and  that  I  will  say, 
though  I  am  your  mother." 

"  I'm  sleepy,"  responded  Maggie,  who  seemad.  by 
no  means  put  out  by  this  tirade  on  the  part  of  her 
mother.  "  I'll  go  up  to  bed  if  you  don't  mind,  mother. 
No,  I  said  afore  as  I  wasn't  hungry." 

She  left  the  room,  crept  up  the  step-ladder  to  the 
loft,  where  the  family  slept,  and  opening  the  tiny 
dormer  window,  put  her  elbows  on  the  sill  and 
gazed  out  on  the  gathering  gloom  which  was  settling 
on  the  moor. 

The  news  of  the  calamity  which  had  befallen 
Polly  had  reached  Maggie's  ears.  Maggie  thought 
only  of  Polly  in  this  trouble ;  it  was  Polly's  baby 
who  was  lost,  it  was  Polly  whose  heart  would  be 
broken.  She  did  not  consider  the  others  in  the 
matter.  It  was  Polly,  the  Polly  whom  she  so 
devotedly  loved,  who  filled  her  whole  horizon. 
When  the  news  was  told  her  she  scarcely  said  a 
word  ;  a  heavy, "  Eh  ! — you  don't  say  !  "  dropped 
from  her  lips.  Even  George,  who  was  her  informer, 
wondered  if  she  had  really  taken  in  the  extent  of 
the  catastrophe ;  then  she  had  turned  on  her  heel 
and  walked  down  to  her  mother's  cottage. 

She  was  not  all  thoughtless  and  all  indifferent, 
however.  While  she  looked  so  stoical  and  heavy  she 
was  patiently  working  out  an  idea,  and  was  nerving 
herself  for  an  act  of  heroism. 

Now  as  she  leant  her  elbows  on  the  sill  by  the 
open  window,  cold  Fear  came  and  stood  by  her  side. 
She  was  awfully  frightened,  but  her  resolve  did  not 
falter.  She  meant  to  slip  away  in  the  dusk  and  walk 
across  Peg-Top  Moor  to  the  hermit's  hut.  An 
instinct,  which  she  did  not  try  either  to  explain  away 
or  prove,  led  her  to  feel  sure  that  she  should  find 
Polly's  baby  in  the  hermit's  hut.  She  would  herself, 


196  POLLY. 

unaided  and  alone,  bring  little  Pearl  back  to  her 
sister. 

It  would  have  been  quite  possible  for  Maggie  to 
have  imparted  her  ideas  to  George,  to  her  mother,  or 
to  some  of  the  neighbors.  There  was  not  a  person 
in  the  village  who  would  not  go  to  the  rescue  of  the 
Doctor's  child.  Maggie  might  have  accompanied  a 
multitude,  had  she  so  willed  it,  to  the  hermit's  hut. 
But  then  the  honor  and  glory  would  not  have  been 
hers ;  a  little  reflection  of  it  might  shine  upon  her, 
but  she  would  not  bask,  as  she  now  hoped  to  do,  in 
its  full  rays. 

She  determined  to  go  across  the  lonely  moor 
which  she  so  dreaded  alone,  for  she -alone  must  bring 
back  Pearl  to  Polly. 

Shortly  before  the  moon  arose,  and  long  after  sun 
set,  Maggie  crept  down  the  attic  stairs,  unlatched  the 
house  door,  and  stepped  out  into  the  quiet  village 
street.  Her  fear  was  that  some  neighbors  would  see 
her,  and  either  insist  on  accompanying  her  on  her 
errand,  or  bring  her  home.  The  village,  however, 
was  very  quiet  that  night,  and  at  nine  o'clock,  when 
Maggie  started  on  her  search,  there  were  very  few 
people  out. 

She  came  quickly  to  the  top  of  the  small  street, 
crossed  a  field,  squeezed  through  a  gap  in  the  hedge, 
and  found  herself  on  the  borders  of  Peg- Top  Moor. 
The  moon  was  bright  by  this  time,  and  there  was  no 
fear  of  Maggie  not  seeing.  She  stepped  over  the 
ground  briskly,  a  solitary  little  figure  with  a  long 
shadow  ever  stalking  before  her,  and  a  beating,  de 
fiant  heart  in  her  breast.  She  had  quite  determined 
that  whatever  agony  she  went  through,  her  fears 
should  not  conquer  her ;  she  would  fight  them  down 
with  a  strong  "hand,  she  would  go  forward  on  her 
poad,  come  what  might. 


MAGGIE  TO  THE  RESCUE.  197 

Maggie  was  an  ignorant  little  cottager,  and  there 
were  many  folk-lore  tales  abroad  with  regard  to  the 
moor  which  might  have  frightened  a  stouter  heart 
than  hers.  She  believed  fully  in  the  ghost  who  was 
to  be  seen  when  the  moon  was  at  the  full,  pacing 
slowly  up  and  down,  through  that  plantation  of  trees 
at  her  right ;  she  had  unswerving  faith  in  the  bogey 
who  uttered  terrific  cries,  and  terrified  the  people 
who  were  brave  enough  to  walk  at  night  through 
Deadman's  Glen.  But  she  believed  more  fully  still 
in  Polly,  in  Polly's  love  and  despair,  and  in  the 
sacredness  of  the  errand  which  she  was  now  under 
taking  to  deliver  her  from  her  trouble. 

From  Mrs.  Ricketts'  cottage  to  the  hermit's  hut 
there  lay  a  stretch  of  moorland  covering  some  miles 
in  extent,  and  Maggie  knew  that  the  lonely  journey 
she  was  taking  could  not  come  to  a  speedy  end. 

She  knew,  however,  that  she  had  got  on  the  right 
track,  and  that  by  putting  one  foot  up  and  one  foot 
down,  as  the  children  do  who  want  to  reach  London 
town,  she  also  at  last  would  come  to  her  destination. 

The  moon  shone  brightly,  and  the  little  maid,  her 
shadow  always  going  before  her,  stepped  along 
bravely. 

Now  and  then  that  same  shadow  seemed  to  as 
sume  gigantic  and  unearthly  proportions,  but  at 
other  times  it  wore  a  friendly  aspect,  and  somewhat 
comforted  the  young  traveler. 

"  It's  more  or  less  part  of  me,"  quoth  Maggie, 
"  and  I  must  say  as  I'm  glad  I  have  it,  it's  better  nor 
nought ;  but  oh,  ain't  the  moon  fearsome,  and  don't 
my  heart  a-flutter,  and  a  pit-a-pat !  I'm  quite  sure 
now,  yes,  I'm  quite  gospel  sure,  thatef  I  was  to  meet 
the  wife  of  Micah  Jones,  I'd  fall  flat  down  dead  at  her 
feet.  Oh,  how  fearsome  is  this  moor!  Well,  ef  I 
gets  hold  of  Miss  Pearl  I'll  never  set  foot  on  it 


again.    No,  not  even  for  a  picnic,  and  the  grandest 
seat  at  the  feast,  and  the  best  of  the  victuals." 

The  moon  shone  on,  and  presently  the  interminable 
walk  came  to  a  conclusion.  Maggie  reached  the 
hermit's  hut,  listened  with  painful  intentness  for  the 
baying  of  some  angry  dogs,  pressed  her  nose  against 
the  one  pane  of  glass  in  the  one  tiny  window,  saw 
nothing,  heard  nothing,  finally  lifted  the  latch,  and 
went  in. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  HERMIT'S  HUT. 

It  was  perfectly  dark  inside  the  hut,  for  the  little 
window,  through  which  the  moon  might  have  shone, 
was  well  shrouded  with  a  piece  of  old  rug.  It  was 
perfectly  dark,  and  Maggie,  although  she  had 
stumbled  a  good  deal  in  lifting  the  latch,  and  having 
to  descend  a  step  without  knowing  it,  had  all  but 
tumbled  headlong  into  the  tiny  abode,  had  evoked 
no  answering  sound  or  stir  of  any  sort. 

She  stood  still  for  a  moment  in  the  complete  dark 
ness  to  recover  breath,  and  to  consider  what  she  was 
to  do.  Strange  to  say,  she  did  not  feel  at  all  frightened 
now;  the  shelter  of  the  four  walls  gave  her 
confidence.  There  were  no  dogs  about,  and  Maggie 
felt  pretty  sure  that  the  wife  of  Micah  Jones  was 
also  absent,  for  if  she  were  in  the  hut,  and  awake, 
she  would  be  sure  to  say,  "  Who's  there  ? "  quoth 
Maggie,  to  her  own  heart ;  "  and  ef  she's  in  the  hut, 
and  asleep,  why  it  wouldn't  be  like  her  not  to  snore." 

The  little  girl  stood  still  for  a  full  minute  ;  during 
this  time  she  was  collecting  her  faculties,  and  that 
brain,  which  Polly  was  pleased  to  call  so  small,  waa 
revolving  some  practical  schemes. 


THE  HERMIT'S  HUT.  199 

«  Ef  I  could  only  lay  my  hand  on  a  match,  now," 
she  thought. 

She  suddenly  remembered  that  in  her  mother's 
cottage  the  match-box  was  generally  placed  behind  a 
certain  brick  near  the  fireplace  ;  it  was  a  handy  spot, 
both  safe  and  dry,  and  Maggie,  since  her  earliest 
days,  had  known  that  if  there  was  such  a  luxury  as 
a  box  of  matches  in  the  house,  it  would  be  found  in 
this  corner.  She  wondered  if  the  wife  of  Micah 
Jones  could  also  have  adopted  so  excellent  a  practice. 
She  stepped  across  the  little  hut,  felt  with  her  hands 
right  and  left,  poked  about  all  round  the  open 
fireplace,  and  at  last,  joy  of  joys,  not  only  discovered 
a  box  with  a  few  matches  in  it,  but  an  end  of  candle 
besides. 

In  a  moment  she  had  struck  a  match,  had  applied 
it  to  the  candle,  and  then,  holding  the  flickering 
light  high,  looked  around  the  little  hut. 

A  girl,  crouched  up  against  the  wall  on  some  straw, 
was  gazing  at  her  with  wide-open  terrified  eyes ;  the 
girl  was  perfectly  still,  not  a  muscle  hi  her  body 
moved,  only  her  big  frightened  eyes  gazed  fixedly 
at  Maggie.  She  wore  no  hat  on  her  head ;  her  long 
yellow  hair  lay  in  confusion  over  her  shoulders ; 
her  feet  were  shoeless,  and  one  arm  was  laid  with  a 
certain  air  of  protection  on  a  wee  white  bundle  on 
the  straw  by  her  side. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  said  Flower,  at  last.  "  Are  you 
a  ghost,  or  are  you  the  daughter  of  the  dreadful 
woman  who  lives  in  this  hut  ?  See  !  I  had  a  long 
sleep.  She  put  me  to  sleep,  I  know  she  did ;  and 
while  I  was  asleep  she  stole  my  purse  and  rings,  and 
my  hat  and  shoes  Bat  chat's  nothing,  that's  noth- 
irg  at  aM.  While  I  was  asleep,  baby  here  died.  I 
V  iOvV  she's  quite  dead,  she  has  not  stirred  nor  moved 
for  hours,  at  least  it  seems  like  hours.  "What  are 


200  POLLY. 

you  staring  at  me  in  that  rude  way  for,  girl  ?  I'm 
quite  sure  the  baby,  Polly's  little  sister,  is  dead." 

Nobody  could  speak  in  a  more  utterly  apathetic 
way  than  Flower.  Her  voice  neither  rose  nor  fell. 
She  poured  out  her  dreary  words  in  a  wailing  mono 
tone. 

"  I  know  that  it's  my  fault,"  she  added ; "  Polly's 
little  sister  has  died  because  of  me." 

She  still  held  her  hand  over  the  white  bundle. 

"  I'm  terrified,  but  not  of  you,"  she  added ;  "  you 
may  be  a  ghost,  stealing  in  here  in  the  dark,  or  you 
may  be  the  daughter  of  that  dreadful  woman.  But 
whoever  you  are,  it's  all  alike  to  me.  I  got  into  one 
of  my  passions.  I  promised  my  mother  when  she 
died  that  I'd  never  get  into  another,  but  I  did,  I  got 
into  one  to-day.  I  was  angry  with  Polly  May  bright ; 
I  stole  her  little  sister  away,  and  now  she's  dead.  I 
am  so  terrified  at  what  I  have  done  that  I  never  can 
be  afraid  of  anything  else.  You  need  not  stare  so  at 
me,  girl ;  whoever  you  are  I'm  not  afraid  of  you." 

Maggie  had  now  found  an  old  bottle  to  stick  her 
candle  into. 

UI  am  Miss  Polly's  little  kitchen-maid,  Maggie 
Ricketts,"  she  replied.  "  I  ain't  a  ghost,  and  I  haven't 
nothing  to  say  to  the  wife  of  Micah  Jones.  As  to  the 
baby,  let  me  look  at  it.  You're  a  very  bad  young 
lady,  Miss  Flower,  but  I  has  come  to  fetch  away  the 
baby,  ef  you  please,  so  let  me  look  at  it  this  minute. 
Oh,  my,  how  my  legs  do  ache  ;  that  moor  is  heavy 
walking !  Give  me  the  baby,  please,  Miss  Flower.  It 
ain't  your  baby,  it's  Miss  Polly's." 

"  So  you're  Maggie  ?  "  said  Flower.  There  was 
a  queer  shake  in  her  voice.  "  It  was  about  you  I 
was  so  angry.  Yes,  you  may  look  at  the  baby  ; 
take  it  and  look  at  it,  but  I  don't  want  to  see  it,  not 
if  it's  dead." 


THE  HERMIT'S  HUT.  201 

Maggie  instantly  lifted  the  little  white  bundle 
into  her  arms,  removed  a  portion  of  the  shawl,  and 
pressed  her  cheek  against  the  cheek  of  the  baby. 

The  little  white  cheek  was  cold,  but  not  deadly 
cold,  and  some  faint,  faint  breath  still  came  from  the 
slightly  parted  lips. 

When  Maggie  had  anything  to  do,  no  one  could 
be  less  nervous  and  more  practical. 

"  The  baby  ain't  dead  at  all,"  she  explained. 
"  She's  took  with  a  chill,  and  she's  very  bad,  but  she 
ain't  dead.  Mother  has  had  heaps  of  babies,  and  I 
know  what  to  do.  Little  Miss  Pearl  must  have  a 
bath  this  minute." 

"  Oh,  Maggie,"  said  Flower.  "  Oh  Maggie,  Mag 
gie  ! " 

Her  frozen  indifference,  her  apathy,  had  departed. 
She  rose  from  her  recumbent  position,  pushed  back 
her  hair,  and  stood  beside  the  other  young  girl,  with 
eyes  that  glowed,  and  yet  brimmed  over  with  tears. 

"  Oh,  what  a  load  you  have  taken  off  my  heart !" 
she  exclaimed.  "  Oh,  what  a  darling  you  are !  Kiss 
me,  Maggie,  kiss  me,  dear,  dear  Maggie." 

"  All  right,  Miss.  You  was  angry  with  me  afore, 
and  now  you're  a-hugging  of  me,  and  I  don't  see  no 
more  sense  in  one  than  t'other.  Ef  you'll  hold  the 
baby  up  warm  to  you,  Miss,  and  breathe  ag'in  her 
cheek  werry  gentle-like,  you'll  be  a-doing  more  good 
than  a-kissing  of  me.  I  must  find  sticks,  and  I  must 
light  up  a  fire,  and  I  must  do  it  this  minute,  or  we 
won't  have  no  baby  to  talk  about,  nor  fuss  over." 

Maggie's  rough  and  practical  words  were  perhaps 
the  best  possible  tonic  for  Flower  at  this  moment. 
She  had  been  on  the  verge  of  a  fit  of  hysterics, 
which  might  have  been  as  terrible  in  its  consequences 
as  either  her  passion  or  her  despair.  Now  trembling 
slightly,  she  sat  down  on  the  little  stool  which  Maggie 


202  POLLY. 

had  pulled  forward  for  her,  took  the  baby  in  her 
arms,  and  partly  opening  the  shawl  which  covered 
it,  breathed  on  its  white  face. 

The  little  one  certainly  was  alive,  and  when 
Flower's  breath  warmed  it,  its  own  breathing  became 
stronger. 

Meanwhile,  Maggie  bustled  about.  The  hermit's 
hut,  now  that  she  had  something  to  do  in  it,  seemed 
no  longer  at  all  terrible.  After  a  good  search  round 
she  found  some  sticks,  and  soon  a  bright  fire  blazed 
and  crackled,  and  filled  the  tiny  house  with  light  and 
warmth.  A  pot  of  water  was  put  on  the  fire  to 
warm,  and  then  Maggie  looked  round  for  a  vessel  to 
bath  the  baby  in.  She  found  a  little  wooden  tub, 
which  she  placed  ready  in  front  of  the  fire. 

"  So  far,  so  good !  "  she  exclaimed ;  "  but  never  a 
sight  of  a  towel  is  there  to  be  seen.  Ef  you'll  give 
me  the  baby  now,  Miss,  I'll  warm  her  limbs  a  bit 
afore  I  put  her  in  the  bath.  I  don't  know  how  I'm 
to  dry  her,  I'm  sure,  but  a  hot  bath  she  must 
have." 

"  I  have  got  a  white  petticoat  on,"  said  Flower. 
"  Would  that  be  any  use  ?  " 

"  Off  with  it  this  minute,  then,  Miss ;  it's  better 
nor  nought.  Now,  then,  my  lamb !  my  pretty !  see 
ef  Maggie  don't  pull  you  round  in  a  twinkling !  " 

She  rubbed  and  chafed  the  little  creature's  limbs 
and  soon  baby  opened  her  eyes,  and  gave  a  weak, 
piteous  cry. 

"I  wish  I  had  something  to  give  her  afore  I  put 
her  in  the  bath,"  said  Maggie.  "  There's  sure  to  be 
sperits  of  some  sort  in  a  house  like  this.  You  look 
round  you  and  see  ef  you  can't  find  something,  Miss 
Flower." 

Flower  obediently  searched  in  the  four  corners  of 
the  but. 


HERMIT'S  fitff ,  &08 

"1  can't  see  anything!"  she  exclaimed.  "The 
place  seems  quite  empty." 

"  Eh,  dear ! "  said  Maggie :  "  you  don't  know  how 
to  search.  Take  the  baby,  and  let  me." 

She  walked  across  the  cabin,  thrust  her  hand  into 
some  straw  which  was  pressed  against  the  rafters, 
pulled  out  an  old  tin  can,  and  opened  it." 

"  Eh,  what's  this !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Sperits  ? 
Now  we'll  do.  Give  me  the  baby  back  again,  Miss 
Flower,  and  fetch  a  cup,  ef  you  please." 

Flower  did  so. 

"  Put  some  hot  water  into  it.  Why,  you  ain't  very 
handy !  Miss  Polly's  worth  a  dozen  of  you  !  Now 
pour  in  a  little  of  the  sperit  from  the  tin  can — not 
too  much.  Let  me  taste  it.  That  will  do.  Now, 
baby — now,  Miss  Polly's  darling  baby  ! — I'll  wet 
your  lips  with  this,  and  you'll  have  your  bath,  and 
you'll  do  fine  ! " 

The  mixture  was  rubbed  on  the  blue  lips  of  the 
infant,  and  Maggie  even  managed  to  get  her  to 
swallow  a  few  drops.  Then,  the  bath  being  pre 
pared  by  Flower,  under  a  shower  of  scathing  ridi 
cule  from  Maggie,  who  had  very  small  respect,  in 
any  sense  of  the  word,  for  her  assistant,  the  baby  was 
put  into  it,  thoroughly  warmed,  rubbed  up,  and  com 
forted,  and  then,  with  the  white  fleecy  shawl 
wrapped  well  around  her,  she  fell  asleep  in  Maggie's 
arms. 

"  She'll  do  for  the  present,"  said  the  kitchen-maid, 
leaning  back  and  mopping  a  little  moisture  from  her 
own  brow.  "  She'll  do  for  a  time,  but  she  won't  do 
for  long,  for  she'll  want  milk  and  all  kinds  of  com 
forts.  And  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Miss  Flower,  that 
my  master  and  Miss  Polly  can't  be  kept  a-fretting 
for  this  child  until  the  morning.  Some  one  must  go 
at  once,  and  tell  'em  where  she  is,  and  put  'em  out  of 


201  POLLY. 

their  misery,  and  the  thing  is  this :  is  it  you,  or  is  it 
ine  that's  to  do  the  job  ?  " 

"  But,"  said  Flower — she  had  scarcely  spoken  at 
all  until  now — "cannot  we  both  go?  Cannot  we 
both  walk  home,  and  take  the  baby  with  us  ?  " 

"  No,  Miss,  not  by  no  means.  Not  a  breath  of 
night  air  must  touch  the  cheeks  of  this  blessed  lamb. 
Either  you  or  me,  Miss  Flower,  must  walk  back  to 
Sleepy  Hollow,  and  tell  'em  about  the  baby,  and 
bring  back  Nurse,  and  what's  wanted  for  the  child. 
Will  you  hold  her,  Miss  ?  and  shall  I  trot  off  at  once  ? 
— for  there  ain't  a  minute  to  be  lost." 

"  No,"  said  Flower,  "  I  won't  stay  in  the  hut.  It 
is  dreadful  to  me.  I  will  go  and  tell  the  Doctor  and 
Polly." 

"  As  you  please,  Miss.  Maybe  it  is  best  as  I  should 
stay  with  little  Missy.  You'll  find  it  awful  lonesome 
out  on  the  moor,  Miss  Flower,  and  I  expect  when  you 
get  near  Deadman's  Glen  as  you'll  scream  out  with 
terror ;  there's  a  bogey  there  with  a  head  three  times 
as  big  as  his  body,  and  long  arms  twice  as  long  as 
they  ought  to  be,  and  he  tears  up  bits  of  moss  and 
fern,  and  flings  them  at  yer,  and  if  any  of  them,  even 
the  tiniest  bit,  touches  yer,  why  you're  dead  before 
the  year  is  out.  Then  there's  the  walking  ghost  and 
the  shadowy  maid,  and  the  brown  lady,  the  same 
color  as  the  bracken  when  it's  withering  up,  and — 
and — why,  what's  the  matter,  Miss  Flower  ?  " 

"  Only  I  respected  you  before  you  talked  in  that 
way,"  said  Flower.  "  I  respected  you  very  much,  and 
I  was  awfully  ashamed  of  not  being  able  to  eat  my 
dinner  with  you.  But  when  you  talk  in  such  an 
awfully  silly  way  I  don't  respect  you,  so  you  had 
better  not  go  on.  Please  tell  me,  as  well  as  you  can, 
how  I'm  to  get  to  Sleepy  Hollow,  and  I'll  start  off  at 
once." 


THE  HERMIT'S  HUT.  205 

"You  must  beware  of  the  brown  lady,  all  the 
same." 

"  No,  I  won't  beware  of  her ;  I'll  spring  right  into 
her  arms." 

"  And  the  bogey  in  Deadman's  Glen.  For 
Heaven's  sake,  Miss  Flower,  keep  to  the  west  of 
Deadman's  Glen." 

"  If  Deadman's  Glen  is  a  short  cut  to  Sleepy  Hol 
low,  I'll  walk  through  it.  Maggie,  do  you  want 
Nurse  to  come  for  little  Pearl,  or  not  ?  I  don't  mind 
waiting  here  till  morning  ;  it  does  not  greatly  matter 
to  me.  I  was  running  away,  you  know." 

"  You  must  go  at  once,"  said  Maggie,  recalled  to 
common  sense  by  another  glance  at  the  sleeping 
child.  "The  baby's  but  weakly,  and  there  ain't 
nothing  here  as  I  can  give  her,  except  the  sperits 
and  water,  until  Nurse  comes.  I'll  lay  her  just  for 
a  minute  on  the  straw  here,  and  go  out  with  you  and 
put  you  on  the  track.  You  follow  the  track  right  on 
until  you  see  the  lights  in  the  village.  Sleepy  Hol 
low's  right  in  the  village,  and  most  likely  there'll  be 
a  light  in  the  Doctor's  study  window  ;  be  quick,  for 
Heaven's  sake,  Miss  Flower !  " 

"  Yes,  I'm  off.  Oh,  Maggie,  Maggie  !  what  do  you 
think  ?  That  dreadful  woman  has  stolen  my  shoes. 
I  forgot  all  about  it  until  this  minute.  What  shall 
t  do  ?  I  can't  walk  far  in  my  stockings." 

"  Have  my  boots,  Miss ;  they're  hob-nailed,  and 
shaped  after  my  foot,  which  is  broad,  as  it  should  be, 
seeing  as  I'm  only  a  kitchen-maid.  But  they're 
strong,  and  they  are  sure  to  fit  you  fine." 

"  I  could  put  my  two  feet  into  one  of  them,"  re 
sponded  Flower,  curling  her  proud  lip  once  again 
disdainfully.  But  then  she  glanced  at  the  baby,  and 
a  queer  shiver  passed  over  her ;  her  eyes  grew  moist, 
her  hands  trembled. 


206  POLLY. 

"I  will  put  the  boots  on,"  she  said.  And  she 
slipped  her  little  feet,  in  their  dainty  fine  silk  stock 
ings,  into  Maggie's  shoes. 

"  Good-bye,  Miss ;  come  back  as  soon  as  you  can," 
called  out  the  faithful  waiting-maid,  and  Flowsr  set 
off  across  the  lonely  moor. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AN   OLD    SONG. 

IT  took  a  great  deal  to  frighten  Polly  Maybright ; 
no  discipline,  no  hard  words,  no  punishments,  had 
ever  been  able  to  induce  the  smallest  sensation  of 
fear  in  her  breast.  As  to  the  moor,  she  had  been 
brought  up  on  it ;  she  had  drank  in  its  air,  and  felt 
its  kindly  breath  on  her  cheeks  from  her  earliest 
days.  The  moors  were  to  Polly  like  dear,  valued, 
but  somewhat  stern,  friends.  To  be  alone,  even  at 
night,  in  one  of  the  small  ravines  of  Peg-Top  Moor 
had  little  in  itself  to  alarm  the  moorland  child. 

It  took  Polly  some  time  to  realize  that  she  was 
absolutely  unable  to  stir  a  step.  Struggle  as  she 
might,  she  could  not  put  that  badly-injured  foot  to 
the  ground.  Even  she,  brave  and  plucky  as  she  was, 
had  not  the  nerve  to  undergo  this  agony.  She  could 
not  move,  therefore  she  could  do  nothing  at  present 
to  recover  little  Pearl.  This  was  really  the  thought 
which  distressed  her.  As  to  sleeping  with  her  head 
pressed  against  the  friendly  bracken,  or  staying  on 
Peg- Top  Moor  all  night,  these  were  small  considera 
tions.  But  not  to  be  able  to  stir  a  step  to  find  the 
baby,  to  feel  that  Flower  was  carrying  the  baby 
farther  and  farther  away,  and  that  Polly's  chance  of 


AN  OLD  SONG.  20? 

ever  seeing  her  again  was  growing  less  and  less, 
became  at  last  a  thought  of  such  agony  that  the 
poor  little  girl  could  scarcely  keep  from  screaming 
aloud. 

"And  it  was  all  my  fault!"  she  moaned.  "I 
forgot  what  father  said  about  climbing  the  highest 
mountain.  When  David  came  to  me,  and  told  me 
that  Flower  was  subject  to  those  awful  passions,  I 
forgot  all  about  my  mountain-climbing.  I  did  not 
recognize  that  I  had  come  to  a  dangerous  bit,  so 
that  I  wanted  the  ropes  of  prayer  and  the  memory 
of  mother  to  pull  me  over  it.  No,  I  did  nothing  but 
rejoice  in  the  knowledge  that  I  didn't  much  like 
Flower,  and  that  I  was  very,  very  glad  to  tease  her. 
Now  I  am  punished.  Oh,  oh,  what  shall  I  do? 
Oh,  if  baby  is  lost !  If  baby  dies,  I  shall  die  too ! 
Oh,  I  think  I'm  the  most  miserable  girl  in  all  the 
world!  What  shall  I  do?  Why  did  mother  go 
away  ?  Why  did  Flower  come  here  ?  Why  did  I 
want  her  to  come  ?  I  have  made  a  mess  of  the  house 
keeping,  and  now  I  have  made  a  mess  of  the  visit 
of  the  strangers.  Oh,  I'm  the  sort  of  girl  who 
oughtn't  to  go  a  step  alone ! — I  really,  really  am  ! 
I  think  I'm  the  very  weakest  sort  of  girl  in  all  the 
world !  " 

Polly  sobbed  and  sobbed.  It  was  not  her  custom 
to  give  way  thus  utterly,  but  she  was  in  severe  pain 
of  body,  and  she  had  got  a  great  shock  when  the  loss 
of  little  Pearl  had  been  announced  by  David. 

"  What  shall  I  do  ? "  she  moaned  and  sobbed. 
"  Oh,  I'm  the  sort  of  girl  who  oughtn't  to  go  a  step 
alone." 

While  she  cried  all  by  herself  on  the  moor,  and 
the  friendly  stars  looked  down  at  her,  and  the  moon 
came  out  and  shone  on  her  poor  forsaken  little  figure, 
an  old  verse  she  used  to  say  in  her  early  childhood 


POLLY. 

returned  to  her  memory.  It  was  the  verse  of  $ 
hymn — a  hymn  her  mother  was  fond  of,  and  used 
often  to  sing,  particularly  about  the  time  of  the  New 
Year,  to  the  children. 

Mrs.  Maybright  had  a  beautiful  voice,  and  on 
Sunday  evenings  she  sang  many  hymns,  with  won 
derful  pathos  and  feeling,  to  her  children.  Polly, 
who  cared  for  music  on  her  own  account,  had  loved 
to  listen.  At  these  times  she  always  looked  hungrily 
into  her  mother's  face,  and  a  longing  and  a  desire  for 
the  best  things  of  all  awoke  hi  her  breast.  It  was 
at  such  times  as  these  that  she  made  resolves,  and 
thought  of  climbing  high  and  being  better  than 
others. 

Since  her  mother's  death,  Polly  could  not  bear  to 
listen  to  hymns.  In  church  she  had  tried  to  shut  her 
ears ;  her  lips  were  closed  tight,  and  she  diligently 
read  to  herself  some  other  part  of  the  service.  For 
her  mother's  sake,  the  hymns,  with  that  one  beau 
tiful  voice  silent,  were  torture  to  her ;  but  Polly  was 
a  very  proud  girl,  and  no  one,  not  even  her  father, 
who  now  came  nearest  to  her  in  all  the  world, 
guessed  what  she  suffered. 

Now,  lying  on  the  moor,  her  mother's  favorite 
hymn  seemed  to  float  down  from  the  stars  to  her 
ears: 

"  I  know  not  the  way  I  am  going, 

But  well  dp  I  know  my  Guide  ; 
With  a  trusting  faith  I  give  my  hand 
To  the  loving  Friend  at  my  side. 

"  The  only  thing  that  I  say  to  Him 
As  He  takes  it  is,  '  Hold  it  fast ! 
Suffer  me  not  to  lose  my  way, 
And  bring  me  home  at  last ! '  " 

It  did  not  seem  at  all  to  Polly  that  she  was  re- 


AN  OLD  SONG  209 

peating  these  words  herself ;  rather  they  seemed  to 
be  said  to  her  gently,  slowly,  distinctly,  by  a  well- 
loved  and  familiar  voice. 

It  was  true,  then,  there  was  a  Guide,  and  those 
who  were  afraid  to  go  alone  could  hold  a  Hand 
which  would  never  lead  them  astray. 

Her  bitter  sobs  came  more  quietly  as  she  thought 
of  this.  Gradually  her  eyes  closed,  and  she  fell 
asleep. 

When  Flower  started  across  the  moor  it  was  quite 
true  that  she  was  not  hi  the  least  afraid.  A  great 
terror  had  come  to  her  that  night ;  during  those  aw 
ful  minutes  when  she  feared  the  baby  was  dead,  the 
terror  of  the  deed  she  had  done  had  almost  stunned 
her ;  but  when  Maggie  came  and  relieved  her  of  her 
worst  agony,  a  good  deal  of  her  old  manner  and  a 
considerable  amount  of  her  old  haughty,  defiant 
spirit  had  returned. 

Flower  was  more  or  less  uncivilized  ;  there  was  a 
good  deal  of  the  wild  and  of  the  untamed  about  her ; 
and  now  that  the  baby  was  alive,  and  likely  to  do 
well,  overwhelming  contrition  for  the  deed  she  had 
done  no  longer  oppressed  her. 

She  stepped  along  as  quickly  as  her  uncomfortable 
boots  would  admit.  The  moonlight  fell  full  on  her 
slender  figure,  and  cast  a  cold  radiance  over  her  un 
covered  head.  Her  long,  yellow  hair  floated  down 
over  her  shoulders  ;  she  looked  wonderfully  ethereal, 
almost  unearthly,  and  had'  any  of  the  villagers  been 
abroad,  they  might  well  have  taken  her  for  one  of  the 
ghosts  of  the  moor. 

Flower  had  a  natural  instinct  for  finding  her  way, 
and,  aided  by  Maggie's  directions,  she  steered  in  a 
straight  course  for  the  village.  Not  a  soul  was 
abroad  ;  she  was  alone,  in  a  great  solitude. 

The  feeling  gave  her  a  certain  sense  of  exhilara- 


210  1POLLY. 

tion.  From  the  depths  of  her  despair  her  easily 
influenced  spirits  sprang  again  to  hope  and  confi 
dence.  After  all,  nothing  very  dreadful  had  hap 
pened.  She  must  struggle  not  to  give  way  to  in 
temperate  feelings.  She  must  bear  with  Polly  ; 
she  must  put  up  with  Maggie.  It  was  all  very  try 
ing  of  course,  but  it  was  the  English  way.  She 
walked  along  faster  and  faster,  and  now  her  lips  rose 
in  a  light  song,  and  now  again  she  ran,  eager  to  get 
over  the  ground.  When  she  ran,  her  light  hair 
floated  behind  her,  and  she  looked  less  and  less  like 
a  living  creature. 

Polly  had  slept  for  nearly  two  hours.  She  awoke 
to  hear  a  voice  singing,  not  the  sweet,  touching, 
high  notes  which  had  seemed  to  fall  from  the  stars  to 
comfort  her,  but  a  wild  song  : — 

"  Oh,  who  will  up  and  follow  me? 

Oh,  who  will  with  me  ride  ? 
Oh,  who  will  up  and  follow  me 
To  win  a  bonny  bride  ?  " 

For  a  moment  Polly's  heart  stood  still  ;  then  she 
started  forward  with  a  glad  and  joyful  cry. 

"  It  is  Flower !  Flower  coming  back  again  with 
little  Pearl !  "  she  said,  in  a  voice  of  rapture.  "  That 
is  Flower's  song  and  Flower's  voice,  and  she  wouldn't 
sing  so  gaily  if  baby  was  not  quite,  quite  well,  and  if 
she  was  not  bringing  her  home." 

Polly  rose,  as  well  as  she  could,  to  a  sitting  pos 
ture,  and  shouted  out  in  return — 

"  Here  I  am,  Flower.  Come  to  me.  Bring  me 
baby  at  once." 

Even  Flower,  who  in  many  respects  had  nerves  of 
iron,  was  startled  by  this  sudden  apparition  among 
the  bracken.  For  a  brief  instant  she  pressed  her 
hand  to  her  heart.  Were  Maggie's  tales  true  't 


AN  OLD  SONG.  211 

Were  there  really  queer  and  unnatural  creatures  to 
be  found  on  the  moor  ? 

"  Come  here,  Flower,  here  !  I  have  sprained  my 
ankle.  What  are  you  afraid  of?"  shouted  Polly 
again.  Then  Flower  sprang  to  her  side,  knelt  down 
by  her,  and  took  her  cold  hand  in  hers.  Flower's 
slight  fingers  were  warm ;  she  was  glowing  all  over 
with  life  and  exercise. 

"  Where's  baby  ?  "  said  Polly,  a  sickly  fear  steal 
ing  over  her  again  when  she  saw  that  the  queer  girl 
was  alone. 

"  Baby  ?  She's  in  the  hermit's  hut  with  Maggie. 
Don't  scold  me,  Polly.  I'm  very  sorry  I  got  into  a 
passion." 

Polly  pushed  Flower's  fingers  a  little  away. 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  angry,"  she  said.  "  I've  been 
asking  God  to  keep  me  from  being  angry.  I  did 
wrong  myself,  I  did  very  wrong,  only  you  did  worse ; 
you  did  worse  than  I  did,  Flower." 

"  I  don't  see  that  at  all.  At  any  rate,  I  have  said 
I  am  sorry.  No  one  is  expected  to  beg  pardon  twice. 
How  is  it  you  are  out  here,  lying  on  the  moor,  Polly  ? 
Are  you  mad  ?  " 

"  No.    I  came  out  to  look  for  baby,  and  for  you." 

"  But  why  are  you  here  ?  You  could  not  find  us 
in  that  lazy  fashion." 

"  Look  at  my  foot ;  the  moonlight  shines  on  it. 
See,  it  is  twisted  all  round.  I  fell  from  a  height 
and  hurt  myself.  I  have  been  lying  here  for 
hours." 

"  Poor  Polly  !  I  am  really  sorry.  I  once  strained 
my  foot  like  that.  The  pain  was  very  bad — very, 
very  bad.  Mother  kept  my  foot  on  her  knee  all 
night ;  she  bathed  it  all  night  long ;  in  the  morn 
ing  it  was  better." 

M  Please,  Flower,  don't  mind  about  my  foot  now. 


212  POLLY. 

Tell  me  about  baby.  Is  she  ill  ?  Have  you  injured 
her?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  I  did  wrong  to  take  her 
out  like  that.  I  said  before,  I  was  sorry.  I  was 
frightened  about  her,  awfully  frightened,  until 
Maggie  came  in.  I  was  really  afraid  baby  was  dead. 
I  don't  want  to  speak  of  it.  It  wasn't  true.  Don't 
look  at  me  like  that.  Maggie  came,  and  said  that 
little  Pearl  lived.  I  was  so  relieved  that  I  kissed 
Maggie,  yes,  actually,  although  she  is  only  a  kitchen- 
maid.  Maggie  got  a  warm  bath  ready,  and  put  baby 
in,  and  when  I  left  the  hut  she  was  sound  asleep. 
Maggie  knew  exactly  what  to  do  for  her.  Fancy 
my  kissing  her,  although  she  is  only  a  kitchen- 
maid  ! " 

"  She  is  the  dearest  girl  in  the  world !  "  said  Polly. 
"  I  think  she  is  noble.  Think  of  her  going  to  the 
hermit's  hut,  and  finding  baby,  and  saving  baby's 
life.  Oh,  she  is  the  noblest  girl  hi  the  world,  miles 
and  miles  above  you  and  me  !  " 

"  You  can  speak  for  yourself.  I  said  she  behaved 
very  well.  It  is  unnecessary  to  compare  her  to 
people  hi  a  different  rank  of  life.  Now,  do  you 
think  you  can  lean  on  me,  and  so  get  back  to  Sleepy 
Hollow  ?  " 

"No,  Flower.  I  cannot  possibly  stir.  Look  at 
my  foot ;  it  is  twisted  the  wrong  way." 

"  Then  I  must  leave  you,  for  Maggie  has  sent  me 
in  a  great  hurry  to  get  milk,  and  comforts  of  all  sorts, 
for  baby." 

"Please  don't  stay  an  instant.  Run,  Flower. 
Why  did  you  stay  talking  so  long  ?  If  father  is  in 
the  house,  you  can  tell  him,  and  he  will  come,  I  know, 
and  carry  me  home.  But,  oh  !  get  everything  that 
is  wanted  for  baby  first  of  all.  I  am  not  of  the 
smallest  consequence  compared  to  baby.  Do  run, 


LOOKING  AT  HERSELF.  213 

Flower ;  do  be  quick.  It  frets  me  so  awfully  to  see 
you  lingering  here  when  baby  wants  her  comforts." 
"  I  shan't  be  long,"  said  Flower.  She  gathered 
up  her  skirts,  and  sped  down  the  path,  and  Polly 
gave  a  sigh  of  real  relief. 


CHAPTER  X. 

LOOKING  AT  HERSELF. 

THAT  night,  which  was  long  remembered  in  the 
annals  of  the  May  bright  family  as  one  of  the  dreariest 
and  most  terrible  they  had  ever  passed  through 
came  to  an  end  at  last.  With  the  early  dawn  Polly 
was  brought  home,  and  about  the  same  time  Nurse 
and  Maggie  reappeared  with  baby  on  the  scene. 

Flower,  after  she  had  briefly  told  her  tidings,  went 
straight  up  to  her  own  room,  where  she  locked  the 
door,  and  remained  deaf  to  all  entreaties  on  David's 
part  that  he  might  come  in  and  console  her. 

"  She's  always  dreadful  after  she  has  had  a  real 
bad  passion,"  he  explained  to  Fly,  who  was  following 
him  about  like  a  little  ghost.  "  I  wish  she  would 
let  me  in.  She  spends  herself  so  when  she  is  in  a 
passion  that  she  is  quite  weak  afterwards.  She 
ought  to  have  a  cup  of  tea ;  I  know  she  ought." 

But  it  was  in  vain  that  David  knocked,  and  that 
little  Fly  herself,  even  though  she  felt  that  she  hated 
Flower,  brought  the  tea.  There  was  no  sound  at  the 
other  side  of  the  locked  door,  and  after  a  time  the 
anxious  watchers  went  away. 

At  that  moment,  however,  had  anybody  been  out 
side,  they  might  have  seen  pressed  against  the 
window-pane  in  that  same  room  a  pale  but  eager  face. 


2!4  POLLY. 

Had  they  looked,  too,  they  might  have  wondered  at 
the  hard  lines  round  the  young,  finely-cut  lips,  and 
yet  the  eager,  pleading  watching  in  the  eyes. 

There  was  a  stir  in  the  distance — the  far-off  sound 
of  wheels.  Flower  started  to  her  feet,  slipped  the 
bolt  of  her  door,  ran  downstairs,  and  was  off  and 
away  to  meet  the  covered  carriage  which  was  bring 
ing  baby  home. 

She  called  to  George,  who  was  driving  it,  to  stop. 
She  got  in,  and  seated  herself  beside  Nurse  and 
baby. 

"  How  is  she  ?  Will  she  live  ?  "  she  asked,  her 
voice  trembling. 

"  God  grant  it !  "  replied  the  Nurse.  "  What  are 
you  doing,  Miss  Flower?  No,  you  shan't  touch 
her." 

"  I  must !  Give  her  to  me  this  moment.  There 
is  Dr.  Maybright.  Give  me  baby  this  moment.  I 
must,  I  will,  have  her ! " 

She  almost  snatched  the  little  creature  out  of 
Nurse's  astonished  arms,  and  as  the  carriage  drew 
up  at  the  entrance  steps  sprang  out,  and  put  the 
baby  into  Dr.  Maybright  arms. 

"  There  I "  she  said ;  "  I  took  her  away,  but  I 
give  her  back.  I  was  in  a  passion  and  angry  when 
I  took  her  away ;  now  I  repent,  and  am  sorry,  and  I 
give  her  back  to  you.  Don't  you  see,  I  can't  do  more 
than  give  her  back  to  you  ?  That  is  our  way  out  in 
Victoria.  Don't  you  slow  English  people  under 
stand  ?  I  was  angry  ;  now  I  am  sorry.  Why  do  you 
all  stand  round  and  stare  at  me  like  that.  Can  any 
body  be  more  than  sorry,  or  do  more  than  give  back 
what  they  took  ?  " 

"  It  is  sometimes  impossible  to  give  back  what  we 
took  away,  Flower,"  replied  the  Doctor,  very  gravely. 

He  was  standing  in  the  midst  of  his  children  j  his 


LOOKING  AT  HERSELF.  215 

face  was  white ;  his  eyes  had  a  strained  look  in  them ; 
the  strong  hands  with  which  he  clasped  little  Pearl 
trembled.  He  did  not  look  again  at  Flows:.',  who 
shrank  away  as  if  she  had  received  a  blow,  and  crept 
upstairs. 

For  the  rest  of  the  day  she  was  lost  sight  of; 
there  was  a  great  deal  of  commotion  and  excitement- 
Polly,  when  she  was  brought  home,  was  sufficiently 
ill  and  suffering  to  require  the  presence  of  a  doctor  ; 
little  Pearl  showed  symptoms  of  cold,  and  for  her 
too  a  physician  prescribed. 

Why  not  Dr.  Maybright  ?  The  children  were  not 
accustomed  to  strange  faces  and  unfamiliar  voices 
when  they  were  ill  or  in  pain.  Polly  had  a  curious 
feeling  when  the  new  doctor  came  to  see  her ;  he  pre 
scribed  and  went  away.  Polly  wondered  if  the  world 
was  coming  to  an  end  ;  she  was  in  greater  pain  than 
she  had  ever  endured  in  her  life,  and  yet  she  felt 
quiet  and  peaceful.  Had  she  gone  up  a  step  or  two 
of  the  mountain  she  so  longed  to  climb  ?  Did  she 
hear  the  words  of  her  mother's  favorite  song,  and 
was  a  Guide — the  Guide — holding  her  childish  hand  ? 

The  hours  of  the  long  day  passed  somehow. 

If  there  was  calm  in  Polly's  room,  and  despair 
more  or  less  in  poor  Flower's,  the  rest  of  the  house 
was  kept  in  a  state  of  constant  excitement.  The 
same  doctor  came  back  again ;  doors  were  shut  and 
opened  quickly ;  people  whispered  in  the  corridors. 
As  the  hours  flew  on,  no  one  thought  of  Flower  in 
her  enforced  captivity,  and  even  Polly,  but  for 
Maggie's  ceaseless  devotion,  might  have  fared  badly. 

All  day  Flower  Dairy mple  remained  in  her  room. 
She  was  forgotten  at  meal-times.  Had  David  been 
at  home,  this  would  not  have  been  the  case ;  but 
Helen  had  sent  David  and  her  own  little  brothers  to 
sp«nd  the  day  at  Mrs.  Jones's  farm.  Even  the  wildest 


216  POLLY. 

spirits  can  be  tamed  and  brought  to  submission  by 
the  wonderful  power  of  hunger,  and  so  it  came  to  pass 
that  in  the  evening  a  disheveled-looking  girl  opened 
the  door  of  her  pretty  room  over  the  porch,  and  slipped 
along  the  passages  and  downstairs.  Flower  went 
straight  to  the  dining-room ;  she  intended  to  provide 
herself  with  bread  and  any  other  food  she  could 
and,  then  to  return  to  her  solitary  musings.  She 
thought  herself  extremely  neglected,  and  the  repent 
ance  and  sense  of  shame  which  she  had  more  or  less 
experienced  in  the  morning  and  the  memory  of  Dr. 
Maybright's  words  -and  the  look  in  his  grave  eyes 
had  faded  under  a  feeling  of  being  unloved,  forsaken, 
forgotten.  Even  David  had  never  come  near  her — 
David,  who  lived  for  her.  Was  she  not  his  queen  as 
well  as  sister  ?  Was  he  not  her  dutiful  subject  as 
well  as  her  little  brother  ? 

All  the  long  day  that  Flower  had  spent  in  soli 
tude  her  thoughts  grew  more  and  more  bitter,  and 
only  hunger  made  her  now  forsake  her  room.  She 
went  into  the  dining-room  ;  it  was  a  long,  low  room, 
almost  entirely  lined  with  oak.  There  was  a  white 
cloth  on  the  long  center  table,  in  the  middle  of  which 
a  lamp  burnt  dimly  ;  the  French  windows  were  open ; 
the  blinds  were  not  drawn  down.  As  Flower  opened 
the  door,  a  strong  cold  breeze  caused  the  lamp  to  flare 
up  and  smoke,  the  curtains  to  shake,  and  a  child  to 
move  in  a  restless,  fretful  fashion  on  her  chair.  The 
child  was  Firefly  ;  her  eyes  were  so  swollen  with  cry 
ing  that  they  were  almost  invisible  under  their  heavy 
red  lids  ;  her  hair  was  tossed  ;  the  rest  of  her  little 
thin  face  was  ghastly  pale. 

"  Is  that  you,  Flower  ? "  she  exclaimed.  "  Are 
you  going  to  stay  here  ?  If  you  are,  I'll  go  away." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Flower.  "  You  go 
away  ?  You  can  go  or  stay,  just  as  you  please.  I 


LOOKING  AT  HERSELF.  217 

have  come  here  because  I  want  some  food,  and 
because  I've  been  shamefully  neglected  and  starved 
all  day.  Ring  the  bell,  please,  Fly.  I  really  must 
order  up  something  to  eat." 

Fly  rose  from  her  chair.  She  had  long,  lanky  legs 
and  very  short  petticoats,  and  as  she  stood  half  lean 
ing  against  the  wall,  she  looked  so  forlorn,  pathetic, 
and  yet  comical,  that  Flower,  notwithstanding 
her  own  anger  and  distress,  could  not  help  bursting 
out  laughing. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  she  said.  "What  an 
extraordinary  little  being  you  are !  You  look  at  me 
£  as  if  you  were  quite  afraid  of  me.  For  pity's  sake, 
child,  don't  stare  at  me  in  that  gruesome  fashion. 
Ring  the  bell,  as  I  tell  you,  and  then  if  you  please 
you  can  leave  the  room." 

There  was  a  very  deep  leather  arm-chair  near  the 
fireplace.  Into  this  now  Flower  sank.  She  leant 
her  head  comfortably  against  its  cushions,  and  gazed 
at  Firefly  with  a  slightly  sarcastic  expression. 

"  Then  you  don't  know !  "  said  Fly,  suddenly. 
"  You  sit  there  and  look  at  me,  and  you  talk  of  eat 
ing,  as  if  any  one  could  eat.  You  don't  know.  You 
wouldn't  sit  there  like  that  if  you  really  knew." 

"  I  think  you  are  the  stupidest  little  creature  I 
ever  met ! "  responded  Flower.  "  I'm  tp  know  some 
thing,  and  it's  wonderful  that  I  care  to  eat.  I  tell 
you,  child,  I  haven't  touched  food  all  day,  and  I'm 
starving.  What's  the  matter  ?  Speak !  I'll  slap 
you  if  you  don't." 

"There's  bread  on  the  sideboard,"  said  Fly. 
"  I'm  sorry  you're  starving.  It's  only  that  father  is 
ill ;  that — that  he's  very  ill.  I  don't  suppose  it  is 
anything  to  you,  or  you  wouldn't  have  done  it." 

"  Give  me  that  bread,"  said  Flower.  She  turned 
very  white,  snatched  a  piece  out  of  Fly's  hand,  and 


218  POLLY. 

put  it  to  her  lips.  She  did  not  swallow  it,  however. 
A  lump  seemed  to  rise  in  her  throat. 

"  I'm  faint  for  want  of  food,"  she  said  in  a  minute. 
"  I'd  like  some  wine.  If  David  was  here,  he'd  give 
it  to  me.  What's  that  about  your  father?  111? 
He  was  quite  well  this  morning ;  he  spoke  to  me." 

She  shivered. 

"I'm  awfully  faint,"  she  said  in  a  moment. 
"  Please,  Fly,  be  merciful.  Give  me  half  a  glass  of 
sherry." 

Fly  started,  rushed  to  the  sideboard,  poured  a 
little  wine  into  a  glass,  and  brought  it  to  Flower. 

"  There ! "  she  said  in  a  cold  though  broken-hearted 
voice.  "  But  you  needn't  faint ;  he's  not  your  father ; 
you  wouldn't  have  done  it  if  he  was  your  father." 

Flower  tossed  off  the  wine. 

"  I'm  better  now,"  she  said. 

Then  she  rose  from  the  deep  arm-chair,  stood  up, 
and  put  her  two  hands  on  Fly's  shoulder. 

"  What  have  I  done  ?  What  do  you  accuse  me 
of?" 

"  Don't !  You  hurt  me,  Flower ;  your  hands  are 
so  hard." 

"  I'll  take  them  off.    What  have  I  done  ?  " 

"  We  are  awfully  sorry  you  came  here.  We  all 
are  ;  we  all  are." 

"Yes?  you  can  be  sorry  or  glad,  just  as  you 
please !  What  have  I  done  ?  " 

"  You  have  made  father,  our  own  father — you  have 
made  him  ill.  The  doctor  thinks  perhaps  he'll  die, 
and  hi  any  case  he  will  be  blind." 

"  What  horrid  things  you  say,  child!  _  aaven't 
done  this." 

"  Yes.  Father  was  out  all  last  night.  You  took 
baby  away,  and  he  went  to  look  for  her,  and  he 
wasn't  well  before,  and  he  got  a  chill.  It  was  a  bad 


LOOKING  AT  &ERSELF, 

chill,  and  he  has  been  ill  all  day.  You  did  it,  but 
he  wasn't  your  father.  We  are  all  so  dreadfully 
sorry  that  you  came  here." 

Flower's  hands  dropped  to  her  sides.  Her  eyes 
curiously  dilated,  looked  past  Fly,  gazing  so  intently 
at  something  which  her  imagination  conjured  up 
that  the  child  glanced  in  a  frightened  way  over  her 
shoulder. 

"What's  the  matter,  Flower?  What  are  you 
looking  at?" 

"Myself." 

"  But  you  can't  see  yourself." 

"  I  can.  Never  mind.  Is  this  true  what  you  have 
been  telling  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it's  quite  true.  I  wish  it  was  a  dream,  and 
I  might  wake  up  out  of  it." 

"  And  you  all  put  this  thing  at  my  door  ?  " 

"  Yes,  of  course.  Dr.  Strong  said — Dr.  Strong 
has  been  here  twice  this  evening — he  said  it  was  be 
cause  of  last  night." 

"Sometimes  we  can  never  give  back  what  we  take 
away"  These  few  words  came  back  to  Flower 
now. 

"  And  you  all  hate  me  ?  "  she  said,  after  a  pause. 

"  We  don't  love  you,  Flower ;  how  could  we  ?  " 

"  You  hate  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  Father  wouldn't  like  us  to  hate 
anybody." 

"  Where's  Helen  ?  " 

"  She's  in  father's  room." 

«  And  Polly  ?  " 

"  Polly  is  in  bed.  She's  ill,  too,  but  not  in  danger, 
like  father.  The  doctor  says  that  Polly  is  not  to 
know  about  father  for  at  any  rate  a  day,  so  please  be 
careful  not  to  mention  this  to  her,  Flower." 

"No  fear!  " 


220  POLLY. 

"  Polly  is  suffering  a  good  deal,  but  she's  not  un 
happy,  for  she  doesn't  know  about  father." 

"  Is  baby  very  ill,  too  ?  " 

"No.  Nurse  says  that  baby  has  escaped  quite 
wonderfully.  She  was  laughing  when  I  saw  her  last. 
She  has  only  a  little  cold." 

"  I  am  glad  that  I  gave  her  to  your  father  myself," 
said  Flower,  in  a  queer,  still  voice.  "  I'm  glad  of 
that.  Is  David  anywhere  about  ?  " 

"  No.  He's  at  the  farm.  He's  to  sleep  there  to 
night  with  Bob  and  Bunny,  for  there  mustn't  be 
a  stir  of  noise  in  the  house." 

"  Well,  well,  I'd  have  liked  to  say  good-bye  to 
David.  You're  quite  sure,  Fly,  that  you  all  think  it 
was  -Tmade  your  father  ill  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course.     You  know  it  was." 

"  Yes,  I  know.     Good-bye,  Fly." 

"  Good-night,  you  mean.  Don't  you  want  some 
thing  to  eat?" 

"  No.  I'm  not  hungry  now.  It  isn't  good-night ; 
it's  good-bye." 

Flower  walked  slowly  down  the  long,  low,  dark 
room,  opened  the  door,  shut  it  after  her,  and  disap 
peared. 

Fly  stood  for  a  moment  in  an  indifferent  attitude 
at  the  table.  She  was  relieved  that  Flower  had  at 
last  left  her,  and  took  no  notice  of  her  words. 

Flower  went  back  to  her  room.  Again  she  shut 
and  locked  her  door.  The  queer  mood  which  had 
been  on  her  all  day,  half  repentance,  half  petulance, 
had  completely  changed.  It  takes  a  great  deal  to 
make  some  people  repent,  but  Flower  Dalrymple 
was  now  indeed  and  in  truth  facing  the  consequences 
of  her  own  actions.  The  words  she  had  said  to  Fly 
were  quite  true.  She  had  looked  at  herself.  Some 
times  that  sight  is  very  terrible.  Her  fingers 


THE  WORTH  OF  A  DIAMOND.  221 

trembled,  her  whole  body  shook,  but  she  did  not  take 
a  moment  to  make  up  her  mind.  They  all  hated 
her,  but  not  more  than  she  hated  herself.  They 
were  quite  right  to  hate  her,  quite  right  to  feel 
horror  at  her  presence.  Her  mother  had  often  spoken 
to  her  of  the  consequences  of  unbridled  passion,  but 
no  words  that  her  mother  could  ever  have  used  came 
up  to  the  grim  reality.  Of  course,  she  must  go 
away,  and  at  once.  She  sat  down  on  the  side  of  her 
bed,  pressed  her  hand  to  her  forehead,  and  reflected. 
In  the  starved  state  she  was  in,  the  little  drop  of 
wine  she  had  taken  had  brought  on  a  violent  head 
ache.  For  a  time  she  found  it  difficult  to  collect  her 
thoughts. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE    WORTH    OF    A    DIAMOND. 

FLOWER  quite  made  up  her  mind  to  go  away 
again.  Her  mood,  however,  had  completely  changed. 
She  was  no  longer  in  a  passion  ;  on  the  contrary,  she 
felt  stricken  and  wounded.  She  would  go  away  now 
to  hide  herself,  because  her  face,  her  form,  the  sound 
of  her  step,  the  echo  of  her  voice,  must  be  painful  to 
those  whom  she  had  injured.  She  shuddered  as  she 
recalled  Firefly's  sad  words — 

"  Father  says  it  is  wrong  to  hate  any  one,  but  of 
course  we  cannot  love  you." 

She  felt  that  she  could  never  look  Polly  in  the 
face  again,  that  Helen's  gentle  smile  would  be  tor 
ture  to  her.  Oh,  of  course  she  must  go  away  ;  she 
must  go  to-night. 

She  was  very  tired,  for  she  had  really  scarcely 
rested  since  her  fit  of  mad  passion,  and  the  previous 
night  she  had  never  gone  to  bed.  Still  all  this  mat- 


222  POLLY. 

tered  nothing.  There  was  a  beating  in  her  heart 
there  was  a  burning  sting  of  remorse  awakened 
within  her,  which  made  even  the  thought  of  rest 
impossible. 

Flower  was  a  very  wild  and  untaught  creature ; 
her  ideas  of  right  and  wrong  were  of  the  crudest. 
It  seemed  to  her  now  that  the  only  right  thing  was 
to  run  away. 

When  the  house  was  quiet,  she  once  more  opened 
her  little  cabinet,  and  took  from  thence  the  last  great 
treasure  which  it  contained.  It  was  one  solitary 
splendid  unset  diamond.  She  had  not  the  least 
idea  of  its  value,  but  she  knew  that  it  would  prob 
ably  fetch  a  pound  or  two.  She  had  not  the  least 
notion  of  the  value  of  money  or  of  the  preciousness 
of  the  gem  which  she  held  in  her  hand,  but  she 
thought  it  likely  that  it  would  supply  her  imme 
diate  needs. 

The  house  was  quite  still  now.  She  took  off  her 
green  cloth  dress,  put  on  a  very  plain  one  of  black 
cashmere,  slipped  a  little  velvet  cap  on  her  head, 
wrapped  a  long  white  shawl  round  her,  and  thus 
equipped  opened  her  door,  and  went  downstairs. 

She  was  startled  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  to  en 
counter  Maggie.  Maggie  was  coming  slowly  up 
wards  as  Flower  descended,  and  the  two  girls 
paused  to  look  at  one  another.  The  lamps  in 
the  passages  were  turned  low,  and  Maggie  held  a 
candle  above  her  head :  its  light  fell  full  on  Flower. 

"  You  mustn't  go  to  Miss  Polly  on  no  account, 
Miss  Flower,"  said  Maggie,  adopting  the  somewhat 
peremptory  manner  she  had  already  used  to  Flower 
in  the  hermit's  hut.  "  Miss  Polly  is  not  to  be  fright 
ened  or  put  out  in  any  way,  leastways  not  to-night." 

"  You  mean  that  you  think  I  would  tell  her  about 
Pr.  Maybright  ?  " 


WORTH  OF  A  DIAMOND. 

"  Perhaps  you  would,  Miss ;  you're  none  too 
sensible." 

Flower  was  too  crushed  even  to  reply  to  this  un 
complimentary  speech.  After  a  pause,  she  said — 

"I'm  not  going  to  Polly.  I'm  going  away. 
Maggie,  is  it  true  that  the — that  Dr.  May  bright  is 
very  ill  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Miss,  the  Doctor's  despert  bad." 

Maggie's  face  worked ;  her  candle  shook ;  she  put 
up  her  other  hand  to  wipe  away  the  fast-flowing 
tears. 

"  Oh,  don't  cry !  "  said  Flower,  stamping  her  foot 
impatiently.  "  Tears  do  no  good,  and  it  wasn't  you 
who  did  it." 

"  No,  Miss,  no,  Miss  ;  that's  a  bit  of  a  comfort. 
I  wouldn't  be  you,  Miss  Flower,  for  all  the  wide 
world.  Well,  I  must  go  now  ;  I'm  a-sleeping  in 
Miss  Polly's  room  to-night,  Miss." 

"Why,  is  Polly  ill  too?" 

"Only  her  foot's  bad.  I  mustn't  stay,  really 
Miss  Flower." 

"  Look  here,"  said  Flower,  struck  by  a  sudden 
thought,  "  before  you  go  tell  me  something.  Your 
mother  lives  in  the  village,  does  she  not  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  Miss,  just  hi  the  main  street,  down 
round  by  the  corner.  There's  the  baker's  shop  and 
the  butcher's,  and  you  turn  round  a  sharp  corner, 
and  mother's  cottage  is  by  your  side." 

"  I've  a  fancy  to  go  and  see  her.     Good-night." 

"  But  not  at  this  hour,  surely,  Miss  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?    I  was  out  later  last  night." 

"  That's  true.  Well,  I  must  go  to  Miss  Polly  now. 
Don't  you  make  any  noise  when  your're  coming  in, 
Miss !  Oh,  my  word  !  "  continued  Maggie  to  herself, 
"  what  can  Miss  Flower  want  with  mother  ?  Well, 
«he  is  a  contrary  young  lady,  mischievous,  and  all 


224  POLLY. 

that,  and  hasn't  she  wrought  a  sight  of  harm  in  this 
yer  house !  But  for  all  that,  mother'll  be  mighty 
took  up  with  her,  for  she's  all  for  romance,  mother  is, 
and  Miss  Flower's  very  uncommon.  Well,  it  ain't 
nought  to  do  with  me,  and  I'll  take  care  to  tell  no 
tales  to  Miss  Polly,  poor  dear." 

The  night  was  still  and  calm  ;  the  stars  shone 
peacefully ;  the  wind,  which  had  come  in  gusts 
earlier  in  the  evening,  had  died  down.  It  took 
Flower  a  very  few  minutes  to  reach  the  village, 
and  she  wasn't  long  in  discovering  Mrs.  Ricketts' 
humble  abode. 

That  good  woman  had  long  retired  to  rest,  but 
Flower's  peremptory  summons  on  the  door  soon 
caused  a  night-capped  head  to  protrude  out  of  a 
window,  a  burst  of  astonishment  to  issue  from  a 
wonder-struck  pair  of  lips,  and  a  moment  later  the 
young  lady  was  standing  by  Mrs.  Ricketts'  fireside. 

"  I'm  proud  to  see  you,  Miss,  and  that  I  will  say. 
Set  down,  Miss,  do  now,  and  I'll  light  up  the  fire  in 
a  twinkling." 

"  No,  you  needn't,"  said  Flower.  "  I'm  hot ;  I'm 
burning.  Feel  me  ;  a  fire  would  drive  me  wild." 

"  To  be  sure,  so  you  are,  all  in  a  fever  like,"  said 
Mrs.  Ricketts,  laying  her  rough  hand  for  a  moment 
on  Flower's  dainty  arm.  "  You'll  let  me  light  up 
the  bit  of  a  paraffin  lamp,  then,  Miss,  for  it  ain't 
often  as  I  have  the  chance  of  seeing  a  young  lady 
come  all  the  way  from  Australy." 

"  You  can  light  the  lamp  if  you  like,"  said  Flower. 
"  And  you  can  stare  at  me  as  much  as  you  please. 
I'm  just  like  any  one  else,  only  wickeder.  I've  come 
to  you,  Mrs.  Ricketts,  because  you're  Maggie's 
mother,  and  Maggie's  a  good  girl,  and  I  thought  per 
haps  you  would  help  me." 

**  I'm  obligated  for  the  words  of  praise  about  my 


WORTH  OF  A  DIAMOND.  225 

daughter,  Miss.  Yes,  she  don't  mean  bad,  Maggie 
don't.  What  can  I  do  to  help  you,  Miss  ?  Any 
thing  in  my  power  you  are  kindly  welcome  to." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  a  diamond,  Mrs.  Ricket's  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,  Miss." 

"  Diamonds  are  very  valuable  stones,  you  know." 

"Maybe,  Miss.  They  ain't  in  my  way.  I  wish 
you'd  let  me  light  you  a  bit  of  fire,  Miss  Flower. 
You'll  have  the  chills  presently,  Miss,  for  you're  all 
of  a  burning  fever  now." 

"  You  can  do  anything  you  like  in  the  way  of  fi*re 
by-and-by.  I  have  a  diamond  here.  Shall  I  show 
it  to  you?" 

"  Oh,  law,  Miss,  I'm  sure  you  are  condescending." 

"  Come  over  close  to  the  paraffin  lamp.  Now  you 
shall  see.  Doesn't  it  sparkle  !  " 

Mrs.  Ricketts  dropped  a  curtsey  to  the  gem, 
which,  unpolished  as  it  was,  cast  forth  strange  re 
flections,  giving  her,  as  she  afterwards  explained,  a 
"  queer  feel  "  and  a  sense  of  chill  down  the  marrow 
of  her  back. 

"  This  is  very  valuable,"  said  Flower.  "  I  don't 
know  what  it  is  worth,  but  my  father  gave  it  to  my 
mother,  and  she  gave  it  to  me.  She  said  it  would 
be  well  for  me  to  have  it  in  case  of  emergency. 
Emergency  has  come,  and  I  want  to  sell  this  stone. 
It  is  very  likely  that  whoever  buys  it  from  me  will 
become  rich.  Would  you  like  it  ?  You  shall  have 
it  for  what  money  you  have  in  the  house." 

"  Oh,  law,  Miss !  but  I'm  a  very  poor  woman,  Miss." 

Mrs.  Rickets  curtseyed  again,  and  drew  closer. 
"  For  all  the  world,  it  looks  as  if  it  were  alive,  Miss." 

"  All  valuable  diamonds  look  as  if  they  lived.  If 
this  were  cut  and  polished  it  would  dazzle  you." 

"  And  if  I  had  it,  I  could  sell  it  for  a  good  bit  of 
money  ?  " 


POLLY. 

"I  am  sure  you  could.    I  don't  know  for 
much,  but  for  more  than  I  am  likely  to  get  frorr. 
you." 

"I'd  like  to  pay  Miss  Polly  back  that  pound  a<? 
Maggie  took  from  her." 

"Don't  worry  me  about  your  debts.  Will  you 
have  this  beautiful  uncut  diamond  for  the  money 
you  have  in  the  house  ?  " 

Mrs.  Ricketts  did  not  reply  for  a  moment. 

"  I  have  nine  shillings  and  fourpence-halfpenny, " 
she  said  at  last,  "and  to-morrow  is  rent-day.  Rent 
will  be  eight  shillings ;  that  leaves  me  one-and- 
fourpence-halfpenny  for  food.  Ef  I  give  you  all  my 
money,  Miss,  how  am  I  to  pay  rent?  And  how  are 
the  children  to  have  food  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  But  you  can  sell  the  diamond.  Why  are  you  so 
dreadfully  stupid  ?  You  can  sell  the  diamond  for 
one,  two,  or  perhaps  three  pounds.  Then  how  rich 
you  will  be." 

"  Oh,  Miss !  there's  no  one  hi  this  yer  village  'ud 
give  away  good  money  for  a  bit  of  a  stone  like  that ; 
they'd  know  better.  My  word !  it  do  send  out  a  sort 
of  a  flame,  though ;  it's  wondrous  to  look  upon  ! " 

"  People  will  buy  it  from  you  in  a  town.  Go  to 
the  nearest  town,  take  it  to  a  jeweler,  and  see  how 
rich  you  will  be  when  you  come  out  of  his  shop. 
There,  I  will  give  it  to  you  for  your  nine-and-four- 
pence-half  penny." 

Flower  laid  the  diamond  in  the  woman's  hand. 

"  It  seems  to  burn  me  like,"  she  said.  But  all  the 
same  her  fingers  closed  over  it,  and  a  look  of  greed 
and  satisfaction  filled  her  face. 

"  I  don't  know  if  I'm  a-doin'  right,"  she  said,  "  for 
perhaps  this  ain't  worth  sixpence,  and  then  where's 
the  rent  and  the  food  ?  But,  all  the  same,  I  don't  like 
to  say  no  to  a  pretty  lady  when  she's  in  trouble, 


THE  WORTH  OF  A  DIAMOND.  227 

Here's  the  nine-and-fourpence-half penny,  Miss.  'I 
earned  it  bit  by  bit  by  washing  the  neighbors' 
clothes  ;  it  wasn't  easy  come  by ;  there's  labor  in  it, 
and  aches  and  dead-tiredness  about  it.  You  take  it, 
Miss.  I  only  trust  the  diamond  will  repay  what  I 
loses  on  that  nine-and-fourpence-half  penny." 

Flower  handled  the  money  as  if  she  thought  it 
dirty. 

Without  a  word  she  slipped  it  into  the  pocket  of 
her  dress. 

"  I  am  going  away,"  she  said.  "  They  are  angry 
with  me  at  Sleepy  Hollow.  I  have  done  wrong.  I 
am  not  a  bit  surprised.  I'm  going  away,  so  as  not 
to  cause  them  any  more  trouble." 

"  Oh,  law,  now,  Miss !  but  they'll  fret  to  part  with 
you." 

"  No,  they  won't.  Anyhow,  it  isn't  your  affair. 
I'm  going  away  as  soon  as  I  possibly  can.  Can  you 
tell  me  where  the  nearest  railway-station  is  ? " 

"  There's  none  closer  than  Everton,  and  that's  a 
matter  of  five  mile  from  here." 

"  I  must  get  there  as  quickly  as  possible.  What 
road  shall  I  take?" 

"  Do  you  think,  Miss,  I'd  let  a  pretty  young  lady 
like  you  trape  the  lanes  in  the  dead  of  night  ?  No, 
no ;  carrier  goes  between  two  and  three  in  the  morn« 
ing  You  might  go  with  him,  if  you  must  go." 

"  That  is  a  good  thought.  Where  does  the  carrier 
live?" 

"  Three  doors  from  here.  I'll  run  round  presently 
and  tell  him  to  call." 

"  Thank  you.  Do  you  think  nine-and-fourpence- 
halfpenny  will  take  me  to  Bath  ?  " 

"  To  Bath,  Miss  ?  It  might,  if  you  condescended 
fa  third  class." 

«  Third  class  will  do  very  well,    Did  you  ever 


22S  POLLY. 

hear  Polly  May  bright  speak  of  an  aunt  of  hers,  a  Mrs. 
Cameron  ?  " 

Mrs.  Ricketts,  whose  back  was  half  turned  to 
Flower  while  she  shut  and  locked  the  box  out  of 
which  she  had  taken  the  precious  nine-and-fourpence 
halfpenny,  now  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  began  to  speak 
in  a  tone  of  great  excitement. 

"Did  I  hear  of  her?"  she  exclaimed.  "  Did  I 
hear  of  the  woman — for  lady  she  ain't — what  turned 
my  Maggie  out  of  her  good  place,  and  near  broke 
Miss  Polly's  heart  ?  Don't  mention  Mrs.  Cameron, 
please,  Miss  Flower,  for  talk  of  her  I  won't ;  set 
eyes  on  her  I  wouldn't,  no,  not  if  I  was  to  receive  a 
pound  for  it !  " 

"  You  needn't  get  so  excited,"  said  Flower ;  "  you 
have  not  got  to  see  Polly's  aunt ;  only  I  thought  per 
haps  you  could  give  me  her  address,  for  I  am  going 
to  her  to-morrow." 

"  I  wouldn't,  Miss,  if  I  was  you." 

"  Yes,  you  would  if  you  were  me.  What  is  Mrs. 
Cameron's  address?" 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  can  rightly  tell  you,  Miss." 

"  Yes,  you  must.    I  see  you  know  it  quite  well." 

"  Well  then,  well  then — you  won't  like  her  a  bit, 
Miss  Flower." 

"  What's  her  address  ?  " 

"  Jasper  Street ;    I  think  it's  Jasper  Street." 

"  And  the  number  ?  She  doesn't  live  in  the  whole 
of  Jasper  Street." 

"  Now,  was  it  a  one  and  a  six  or  a  one  and  a 
seven  ? "  queried  Mrs.  Ricketts.  "  Oh,  Miss  !  if  I 
was  you,  I  wouldn't  go  near  her ;  but  I  think  her 
number  is  a  one  and  a  seven." 

"  Seventeen,  you  mean." 

"  Yes,  that's  it ;    I  was  never  great  at  counting." 


RELICS  AND  A  WELCOME.  229 


CHAPTER  XII. 

RELICS  AND  A  WELCOME. 

MRS.  CAMERON'S  house  in  Bath  was  decidedly  old- 
fashioned.  It  was  a  large,  solemn,  handsome  man 
sion  ;  its  windows  shone  from  constant  cleaning ;  its 
paint  was  always  fresh,  its  Venetian  blinds  in  per 
fect  order. 

When  a  certain  wild,  untidy,  almost  disreputable- 
looking  girl  ran  up  its  snow-white  steps,  and  rang  its 
highly-polished  brass  bell,  the  neat  parlor-maid  who 
answered  her  summons  stared  at  her,  and  doubted  a 
good  deal  if  Mrs.  Cameron  could  see  her. 

"  You  had  better  step  into  the  hall  for  a  moment," 
said  the  maid-servant,  "  and  I'll  inquire  if  my  missis 
is  at  leisure ;  but  if  it's  the  new  housemaid's  place 
you've  come  after " 

Flower  gasped ;  she  drew  herself  up,  raised  her 
hand,  and  took  off  her  small  black  velvet  cap. 

"  You  forget  yourself  !  "  she  said,  with  a  haughti 
ness  which  did  not  ill  become  her,  notwithstanding 
her  untidy  and  dishevelled  state.  "My  name  is 
Flower  Dalrymple,  and  I  have  come  from  Sleepy 
Hollow  Please  let  your  mistress  know  directly." 

The  parlor-maid,  who  saw  her  mistake,  was  pro 
fuse  in  apologies. 

She  showed  Flower  into  a  dismal-looking  dining- 
room,  and  went  up-stairs. 

"  Who  is  it,  Ann  ?  "  asked  an  anxious  voice  as  she 
prepared  to  ascend  the  richly-carpeted  stairs. 

A  door  was  opened  at  the  end  of  the  passage,  and 


POLLY. 

a  fusty,  dusty-looking  little  man  put  in  an  appear 
ance. 

"  Who  is  it,  Ann  ?    Any  one  for  me  ?  " 

"  A  young  lady  as  wants  to  see  the  missis,  sir.  Oh, 
Mr.  Cameron !  what  a  deal  of  dust  you  has  brought 
out  into  the  'all ! " 

The  little  man  looked  meekly  down  at  his  dusty 
garments. 

"  I  have  just  been  unpacking  my  last  crate  of 
curiosities  from  China,  Ann.  Where  is  the  young 
lady  ?  Perhaps  she  would  tike  to  see  the  relics  " 

"No,  sir,  that  I'm  sure  she  wouldn't;  she's  all 
brown  and  spent  like.  She's  for  all  the  world  like  a 
relic  herself." 

Ann  tripped  lightly  up-stairs,  and  Mr.  Cameron, 
pushing  his  spectacles  high  up  on  his  bald  forehead, 
looked  with  an  anxious  glance  to  right  and  left. 
Then  very  quickly  on  tiptoe  he  crossed  the  hall, 
opened  the  dining-room  door,  and  went  in. 

"How  are  you,  young  lady?  If  you  are  very 
quick,  I  can  get  you  into  my  sanctum  sanctorum.  I 
am  just  unpacking  Chinese  relics.  I  trust,  I  hope, 
you  are  fond  of  relics." 

Flower  started  to  her  feet. 

"  I  thought,  I  certainly  thought,  Polly  said  Mrs. 
Cameron,"  she  remarked.  "  I  don't  think  I  shall  be 
at  all  afraid  to  live  with  you.  I  don't  exactly  know 
what  Chinese  relics  are,  but  I  should  love  to  see 
them." 

"  Then  quick,  my  dear,  quick !  We  haven't  a  min 
ute  to  spare.  She's  sure  to  be  down  in  a  jift'y. 
Now  then,  step  on  tiptoe  across  the  hall.  Ann  has 
the  quickest  ears,  and  she  invariably  reports.  She's 
not  a  nice  girl,  Ann  isn't.  She  hasn't  the  smallest 
taste  for  relics.  My  dear,  there's  an  education  in 


RELICS  AND  A  WELCOME.  231 

this  room,  but  no  one,  no  one  who  comes  to  the  house, 
cares  to  receive  it." 

While  the  little  man  was  talking,  he  was  rushing 
across  the  wide  hall,  and  down  a  long  passage, 
Flower's  hand  clasped  in  his.  Finally  he  pushed 
open  a  baize-lined  door,  hastily  admitted  himself 
and  Flower,  and  closed  it  behind  them.  The  sanc 
tum  sanctorum  was  small,  stuffy,  dusty,  dirty. 
There  were  several  chairs,  but  they  were  all  piled 
with  relics,  two  or  three  tables  were  also  crammed 
with  tokens  of  the  past.  Flower  was  very  weary, 
the  dust  and  dirt  made  her  sneeze,  and  she  looked 
longingly  for  even  the  smallest  corner  of  a  chair  on 
which  to  seat  herself. 

"  I  do  want  some  breakfast  so  badly,"  she  began. 

"  Breakfast !  My  love,  you  shall  have  it  presently. 
Now  then,  we'll  begin.  This  case  that  I  have  just 
unpacked  contains  teeth  and  a  small  portion  of  a 
jawbone.  Ah !  hark !  what  is  that  ?  She  is  coming 
already  !  Will  that  woman  never  leave  me  in  peace  ? 
My  love,  the  object  of  my  life,  the  one  object  of  my 
whole  life,  has  been  to  benefit  and  educate  the  young 
I  thought  at  last  I  had  found  a  pupil,  but,  ah,  I  fear 
she  is  very  angry  !  " 

The  sound  of  a  sharp  voice  was  heard  echoing 
down  the  stairs  and  along  the  passage,  a  sharp,  high- 
pitched  voice,  accompanied  by  the  sharper,  shriller 
barking  of  a  small  dog. 

"Zeb!  I  say,  Zeb!  Zebedee,  if  you  have  taken 
that  young  girl  into  your  sanctum,  I  desire  you  to 
send  her  out  this  moment." 

The  little  man's  face  grew  pale ;  he  pushed  his 
spectacles  still  higher  on  his  forehead. 

"  There,  my  love,  do  you  hear  her  ?  I  did  my 
best  for  you.  I  was  beginning  your  education," 


232  POLLY. 

"Zeb!  Zeb!  Open  the  door  this  minute,"  was 
shouted  outside. 

"  You'll  remember,  my  love,  to  your  dying  day, 
that  I  showed  you  three  teeth  and  the  bit  of  a  jaw 
bone  of  a  Chinaman  who  died  a  thousand  years  ago." 

"  Zeb ! "  thundered  the  voice. 

"  Yap  !  yap  !  yap  !  "  barked  the  small  dog. 

«  You  must  go,  my  dear.  She's  a  powerful  woman. 
She  always  has  her  way.  There,  let  me  push  you  out. 
I  wouldn't  have  her  catch  sight  of  me  at  this  mo 
ment  for  fifty  pounds." 

The  green  baize  door  was  opened  a  tiny  bit,  a 
violent  shove  was  administered  to  Flower's  back,  and 
she  found  herself  in  the  arms  of  Mrs.  Cameron,  and 
in  extreme  danger  of  having  her  nose  bitten  off  by 
the  infuriated  Scorpion. 

"  Just  like  Zebedee ! "  exclaimed  the  good  lady. 
"  Always  struggling  to  impart  the  dry  bones  of  ob 
solete  learning  to  the  young !  Come  this  way,  Miss 
— Miss — what's  your  name  ?  " 

"  Dalrymple — Flower  Dalrymple." 

"  An  outlandish  title,  worthy  of  Sleepy  Hollow. 
I  have  not  an  idea  who  you  are,  but  come  into  the 
dining-room." 

"  Might  I might  I  have  a  little  breakfast  ?  " 

"  Bless  me,  the  child  looks  as  if  she  were  going  to 
faint !  Ann,  Ann,  I  say  !  Down,  Scorpion !  You  shall 
have  no  cream  if  you  bark  any  more.  Ann,  bring 
half  a  glass  of  port  wine  over  here,  and  make  some 
breakfast  for  Miss — Miss  Rymple  as  fast  as  you 
can." 

a  Dalrymple,  please  ! " 

"  Don't  worry  me,  child.  I  can't  get  my  tongue 
round  long  names.  Now,  what  is  it  you  are  called  ? 
Daisy  ?  What  in  the  world  have  you  come  to  me 
for,  Daisy?" 


RELICS  AND  A  WELCOME.  233 


« I'm  Flower- 


"  Well,  and  isn't  Daisy  a  flower  ?  Now  then,  Daisy 
Ryraple,  tell  your  story  as  quickly  as  possible.  I 
don't  mind  giving  you  breakfast,  but  I'm  as  busy  as 
possible  to-day.  I've  six  committee  meetings  on 
between  now  and  two  o'clock.  Say  your  say,  Daisy, 
and  then  you  can  go." 

"  But  I've  come  to  stay ! " 

"  To  stay  f  Good  gracious !  Scorpion,  down, 
sir !  Now,  young  lady,  have  you  or  have  you  not 
taken  leave  of  your  senses  ?  " 

"  No,  really.     May  I  tell  you  my  story  ?  " 

"  If  you  take  ten  minutes  over  it ;  I  won't  give 
you  longer  time." 

"I'll  try  to  get  it  into  ten  minutes.  I'm  an 
Australian,  and  so  is  David.  David  is  my  brother. 
We  came  over  in  the  Australasia  about  six  weeks 
ago.  Dr.  May  bright  met  us  in  London,  and  took  us 
down  to  Sleepy  Hollow." 

"  Bless  the  man  ! — just  like  him.  Had  he  any  re 
sponsible  matron  or  spinster  in  the  house,  child  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  don't  think  so.  There  was 
Helen  and  Polly  and " 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  about  Polly  !  Go  on ;  your 
ten  minutes  will  soon  be  up.  Go  on." 

"  A  couple  of  days  ago  we  went  on  a  picnic — I 
have  a  way  of  getting  into  awful  passions — and 
Polly — Polly  vexed  me." 

"  Oh,  she  vexed  you  ?  You're  not  the  first  that 
young  miss  has  vexed,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  She  vexed  me ;  I  oughtn't  to  have  minded ;  I  got 
into  a  passion  ;  I  felt  awful ;  I  ran  away  with  baby," 

"  Goodness  me !  what  is  the  world  coming  to  ? 
You  don't  mean  to  say  you  have  dared  to  bring  the 
infant  here,  Daisy  ?  " 

"  No,  no.     I  ran  away  with  her  on  to  the 


234:  POLLY. 

I  was  so  frightened,  for  I  thought  baby  had  died. 
Then  Maggie  came,  and  she  saved  her  life,  and  she 
was  brought  home  again." 

"  That's  a  good  thing ;  but  I  can't  see  why  you 
are  troubling  me  with  this  story." 

"Yesterday  morning  I  gave  baby  back  to  Dr. 
Maybright.  He's  not  like  other  people ;  he  looked 
at  me,  and  his  look  pierced  my  heart.  He  said 
something  too,  and  then  for  the  first  time  I  began  to 
be  really,  really  sorry.  I  went  up  to  my  room ;  I 
stayed  there  alone  all  day  ;  I  was  miserable  " 

"  Served  you  right  if  you  were,  Daisy." 

"  In  the  evening  I  was  so  hungry,  I  went  down 
for  food.  I  met  Firefly  ;  she  told  me  the  worst." 

"  Then  the  baby  died  ?  You  really  are  an  awful 
girl,  Daisy  Rymple." 

« No.  The  baby  is  pretty  well,  and  Polly,  who 
sprained  her  foot  running  after  me,  is  pretty  well ; 
but  it's — it's  Dr.  Maybright — the  best  man  I  ever 
met — a  man  who  could  have  helped  me  and  made  me 
a — a  good  girl — he's  very,  very  ill,  and  they  think  he 
may  die.  He  wasn't  strong,  and  he  was  out  all  night 
looking  for  baby  and  me,  and  he  got  a  bad  chill,  and 
he — he  may  be  dead  now.  It  was  my  doing ;  Fly 
told  me  so." 

Flower  laid  her  head  on  the  table ;  her  long-sus 
tained  fortitude  gave  way ;  she  sobbed  violently. 

Her  tears  stained  Mrs.  Cameron's  snowy  table- 
linen  ;  her  head  was  pressed  down  on  her  hands ; 
her  face  was  hidden.  She  was  impervious  in  her  woe 
to  any  angry  words  or  to  the  furious  barking  of  a 
small  dog. 

At  last  a  succession  of  violent  shakes  recalled  her 
to  herself. 

"  Witt  you  sit  up  ? — spoiling  my  damask  and  shed 
ding  tears  into  the  excellent  coffee  I  have  made  for 


RELICS  AND  A  WELCOME.  335 

you.  Ah,  that's  better ;  now  I  can  see  your  face. 
Don't  you  know  that  you  are  a  very  naughty,  dan 
gerous  sort  of  girl  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  that  quite  well.  Mother  always  said 
that  if  I  didn't  check  my  passion  I'd  do  great  mis 
chief  some  day." 

"  And  right  she  was.  I  don't  suppose  the  table- 
linen  will  ever  get  over  those  coffee  stains  mixed  with 
tears.  Now,  have  the  goodness  to  tell  me,  Daisy,  or 
Ivy,  or  whatever  you  are  called,  why  you  have  come 
to  tell  this  miserable,  disgraceful  story  to  me." 

"  Fly  said  they  none  of  them  could  love  me  now." 

"  I  should  think  not,  indeed !  No  one  will  love 
such  a  naughty  girl.  What  have  you  come  to  me 
for?" 

"  I  thought  I  could  stay  with  you  for  a  little  until 
there  was  another  home  found  for  me." 

"  Oh,  ah  !  Now  at  last  we  have  come  to  the  bottom 
of  the  mystery.  And  I  suppose  you  thought  I'd  pet 
you  and  make  much  of  you  ?  " 

"  I  didn't.  I  thought  you'd  scold  me  and  be  very 
cross.  I  came  to  you  as  a  punishment,  for  Polly 
always  said  you  were  the  Grossest  woman  she  ever 
met." 

"  Polly  said  that  ?  Humph  !  Now  eat  up  your 
breakfast  quickly,  Daisy.  I'm  going  out.  Don't  stir 
from  this  room  until  I  come  back." 

Mrs.  Cameron,  who  had  come  down-stairs  in  her 
bonnet,  slammed  the  dining-room  door  after  her, 
walked  across  the  hall,  and  let  herself  out.  It  did 
not  take  her  many  minutes  to  reach  the  telegraph 
office.  From  there  she  sent  a  brief  message  to  Helen 
Maybright : — 

"  Sorry  your  father  is  ill.  Expect  me  this  evening 
with  Daisy 


236  POLLY. 


CHAPTER 

VEEY    BOUGH    WEATHER. 

WITH  all  her  easy  and  languishing  ways,  Flower 
Dalrymple  had  often  gone  through  rough  tunes.  Her 
life  in  Australia  had  given  to  her  experiences  both  of 
the  extreme  of  luxury  and  the  extreme  of  roughing, 
but  never  hi  the  course  of  her  young  life  did  she  go 
through  a  more  uncomfortable  journey  than  that 
from  Mrs.  Cameron's  house  in  Bath  to  Sleepy 
Hollow.  It  was  true  that  Scorpion,  Mrs.  Cameron, 
and  Flower,  traveled  first-class;  it  was  true  also 
that  where  it  was  necessary  for  them  to  drive  the 
best  carriages  to  be  procured  were  at  their  service  ; 
but,  as  on  all  and  every  occasion  Scorpion  was  king 
of  the  ceremonies  these  arrangements  did  not  add  to 
Flower's  comfort.  Mrs.  Cameron,  who  felt  seriously 
angry  with  the  young  girl,  addressed  all  her  conver 
sation  to  the  dog,  and  as  the  dog  elected  to  sit  on 
Flower's  lap,  and  snapped  and  snarled  whenever  she 
moved,  and  as  Mrs.  Cameron's  words  were  mostly 
directed  through  the  medium  of  Scorpion  at  her,  her 
position  was  not  an  agreeable  one. 

"  Ah-ha,  my  dear  doggie !  "  said  the  good  lady. 
"  Somebody  has  come  to  the  wrong  box,  has  she  not  ? 
Somebody  thought  I  would  take  her  in,  and  be  kind 
to  her,  and  pet  her,  and  give  her  your  cream,  did  she 
not  ?  But  no  one  shall  have  my  doggie's  cream ;  no, 
that  they  shan't !  " 

"Mrs.  Cameron,"  said  Flower,  when  these  par 
ticularly  clever  and  lucid  remarks  had  continued  for 


VERY  ROUGH  WEATHER.  237 

nearly  an  hour,  "  may  I  open  the  window  of  the 
carriage  at  this  side  ?  I'm  quite  stifling." 

Mrs.  Cameron  laid  a  firm,  fat  hand  up^r.  the 
window  cord,  and  bent  again  over  the  pampered 
Scorpion. 

"  And  is  my  doggie's  asthma  not  to  be  considered 
for  the  sake  of  somebody  who  ought  not  to  be  here, 
who  was  never  invited  nor  wished  for,  and  is  now  to 
be  returned  like  a  bad  penny  to  where  she  came  from  ? 
Is  my  own  dearest  little  dog  to  suffer  for  such  a  per 
son's  whims  ?  Oh,  fie  !  oh,  fie  !  Well,  come  here 
my  Scorpion  ;  your  mistress  won't  reject  you." 

For  Flower,  in  a  fit  of  ungovernable  temper,  had 
suddenly  dashed  the  petted  form  of  Scorpion  to  the 
ground. 

The  poor  angry  girl  now  buried  herself  in  the 
farthest  corner  of  the  railway  carriage.  From  there 
she  could  hear  Mrs.  Cameron  muttering  about 
"somebody's  "  temper,  and  hoping  that  "some 
body  "  would  not  get  her  deserts. 

These  remarks,  uttered  several  times,  frightened 
Flower  so  much  that  at  last  she  looked  up,  and  said, 
in  a  queer,  startled  voice, — 

"  You  don't  think  Dr.  Maybright  is  going  to  die  ? 
You  can't  be  so  awfully  wicked  as  to  think  that." 

"  Oh,  we  are  wicked,  are  we,  Scorpion  ? "  said 
Mrs.  Cameron,  her  fat  hand  gently  stroking  down 
Scorpion's  smooth  fur  from  tip  to  tail.  "  Never  mind, 
Scorpion,  my  own ;  never  mind.  When  the  little 
demon  of  temper  gets  into  somebody  she  isn't  quite 
accountable,  is  she  ?  " 

Flower  wondered  if  any  restraining  power  would 
keep  her  from  leaping  out  of  the  window. 

But  even  the  weariest  journey  comes  to  an  end  at 
last,  and  twenty-four  hours  after  she  had  left  Sleepy 
Hollow,  Flower,  feeling  the  most  subdued,  the  most 


238  POLLY. 

abject,  the  most  brow-beaten  young  person  in  Christ 
endom,  returned  to  it.  Towards  the  end  of  the 
journey  she  felt  impervious  to  Mrs.  Cameron's  sly 
allusions,  and  Scorpion  growled  and  snapped  at 
her  in  vain.  Her  whole  heart  was  filled  with  one 
overpowering  dread.  How  should  she  find  the 
Doctor  ?  Was  he  better  ?  Was  he  worse  ?  Or  had 
all  things  earthly  come  to  an  end  for  him ;  and  had 
he  reached  a  place  where  even  the  naughtiest  girl 
in  all  the  world  could  vex  and  trouble  him  no 
longer  ? 

When  the  hired  fly  drew  up  outside  the  porch, 
Flower  suddenly  remembered  her  first  arrival — the 
gay  "  Welcome  "  which  had  waved  above  her  head ; 
the  kind,  bright  young  faces  that  had  come  out  of 
the  darkness  to  greet  her ;  the  voice  of  the  head  of 
the  house,  that  voice  which  she  was  so  soon  to  learn 
to  love,  uttering  the  cheeriest  and  heartiest  words  of 
greeting.  Now,  although  Mrs.  Cameron  pulled  the 
hall-door  bell  with  no  uncertain  sound,  no  one,  for  a 
tune  at  least,  answered  the  summons,  and  Flower, 
seizing  her  opportunity,  sprang  out  of  the  fly  and 
rushed  into  the  house. 

The  first  person  she  met,  the  very  first,  was  Polly. 
Polly  was  sitting  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  all  alone. 
She  had  seated  herself  on  the  bottom  step.  Her 
knees  were  huddled  up  almost  to  her  chin.  Her 
face  was  white,  and  bore  marks  of  tears.  She 
scarcely  looked  up  when  Flower  ran  to  her. 

"  Polly !  Polly !  How  glad  I  am  you  at  least  are 
not  very  ill." 

«  Is  that  you,  Flower  ?  "  asked  Polly. 

She  did  not  seem  surprised,  or  in  any  way  af 
fected. 

"Yes,  my  leg  does  still  ache  very  much.  But 
•yrhat  of  that9  What  of  anything  now?  He  is 


VERY  ROUGH  WEATHER. 

worse !  They  have  sent  for  another  doctor.  The 
doctor  from  London  is  up-stairs;  he's  with  him. 
I'm  waiting  here  to  catch  him  when  he  comes  down, 
for  I  must  know  the  very  worst." 

"  The  very  worst ! "  echoed  Flower  in  a  feeble 
tone. 

She  tumbled  down  somehow  on  to  the  stairs 
beside  Polly,  and  the  next  instant  her  death-like 
face  lay  in  Polly's  lap. 

"  Now,  my  dear,  you  need  not  be  hi  the  least 
frightened,"  said  a  shrill  voice  in  Polly's  ears.  "  A 
most  troublesome  young  person!  a  most  trouble 
some  !  She  has  just  fainted ;  that's  all.  Let  me 
fetch  a  jug  of  cold  water  to  pour  over  her." 

"  Is  that  yow,  Aunt  Maria  ?  "  said  Polly.  "  Oh 
yes,  there  was  a  telegram,  but  we  forgot  all  about 
it.  And  is  that  Scorpion,  and  is  he  going  to  bark  ? 
But  he  mustn't !  Please  kneel  down  here,  Aunt 
Maria,  and  hold  Flower's  head.  Whatever  happens 
Scorpion  mustn't  bark.  Give  him  to  me ! " 

Before  Mrs.  Cameron  had  time  to  utter  a  word  or 
in  any  way  to  expostulate,  she  found  herself  dragged 
down  beside  Flower,  Flower's  head  transferred 
to  her  capacious  lap,  and  the  precious  Scorpion 
snatched  out  of  her  arms.  Polly's  firm,  muscular 
young  fingers  tightly  held  the  dog's  mouth,  and  in 
an  instant  Scorpion  and  she  were  out  of  sight. 
Notwithstanding  all  his  fighting  and  struggling  and 
desperate  efforts  to  free  himself,  she  succeeded  in 
carrying  him  to  a  little  deserted  summer  pagoda  at 
a  distant  end  of  the  garden.  Here  she  locked  him 
in,  and  allowed  him  to  suffer  both  cold  and  hunger 
for  the  remainder  of  the  night. 

There  are  times  when  even  the  most  unkind  are 
softened.  Mrs.  Cameron  was  not  a  sympathetic  per 
son.  She  was  a  great  philanthropist,  it  is  true,  and. 


fcOLLY. 

was  much  esteemed,  especially  by  those  people  who 
did  not  know  her  well.  But  love,  the  real  name 
for  what  the  Bible  calls  charity,  seldom  found  an 
entrance  into  her  heart.  The  creature  she  devoted 
most  affection  to  was  Scorpion.  But  now,  as  she 
sat  in  the  still  house,  which  all  the  time  seemed  to 
throb  with  a  hidden  intense  life ;  when  she  heard 
in  the  far  distance  doors  opening  gently  and  stifled 
sobs  and  moans  coming  from  more  than  one  young 
throat ;  when  she  looked  down  at  the  deathlike  face 
of  Flower — she  really  did  forget  herself,  and  rose 
for  once  to  the  occasion. 

Very  gently — for  she  was  a  strong  woman — she 
lifted  Flower,  and  carried  her  into  the  Doctor's 
study.  There  she  laid  her  on  a  sofa,  and  gave  her 
restoratives,  and  when  Flower  opened  her  dazed 
eyes  she  spoke  to  her  more  kindly  than  she  had 
done  yet. 

"  I  have  ordered  something  for  you,  which  you 
are  to  take  at  once,"  she  said.  "  Ah !  here  it  is ! 
Thank  you,  Alice.  Now,  Daisy,  drink  this  off  at 
once." 

It  was  a  beaten-up  egg  in  milk  and  brandy,  and 
when  Flower  drank  it  she  felt  no  longer  giddy,  and 
was  able  to  sit  up  and  look  around  her. 

In  the  meantime  Polly  and  all  the  other  children 
remained  still  as  mice  outside  the  Doctor's  door. 
They  had  stolen  on  tiptoe  from  different  quarters  of 
the  old  house  to  this  position,  and  now  they  stood 
perfectly  still,  not  looking  at  one  another  or  uttering 
a  sound,  but  with  their  eyes  fixed  with  pathetic 
earnestness  and  appeal  at  the  closed  door.  When 
would  the  doctors  come  out?  When  would  the 
verdict  be  given  ?  Minutes  passed.  The  children 
found  this  time  of  tension  an  agony. 

tt  1  can't  bear  it ! "  sobbed  Firefly  at  last. 


VERY  ROUGH  WEATHER.  241 

But  the  others  said,  "  Hush !  "  so  peremptorily, 
and  with  such  a  total  disregard  for  any  one  person's 
special  emotions,  that  the  little  girl's  hysterical  fit 
was  nipped  in  the  bud. 

At  last  there  was  a  sound  of  footsteps  within  the 
room,  and  the  local  practitioner,  accompanied  by  the 
great  physician  from  London,  opened  the  door  care 
fully  and  came  out. 

"  Go  in  and  sit  with  your  father,"  said  one  of  the 
doctors  to  Helen. 

Without  a  word  she  disappeared  into  the  darkened 
room,  and  all  the  others,  including  little  Pearl  in 
Nurse's  arms,  followed  the  medical  men  down-stairs. 
They  went  into  the  Doctor's  study,  where  Flower 
was  still  lying  very  white  and  faint  on  the  sofa. 
Fortunately  for  the  peace  of  the  next  quarter  of  an 
hour  Mrs.  Cameron  had  taken  herself  off  in  a  vain 
search  for  Scorpion. 

"  Now,"  said  Polly,  when  they  were  all  safely  in 
the  room — she  took  no  notice  of  Flower ;  she  did  not 
even  see  her — "  now  please  speak ;  please  tell  us  the 
whole  truth  at  once." 

She  went  up  and  laid  her  hand  on  the  London 
physician's  arm. 

"  The  whole  truth  ?  But  I  cannot  do  that,  my 
dear  young  lady,"  he  said,  in  hearty,  genial  tones. 
"  Bless  me  !  "  turning  to  the  other  doctor,  "  do  all 
these  girls  and  boys  belong  to  Maybright  ?  And  so 
you  want  the  whole  truth,  Miss — Miss " 

"  I'm  called  Polly,  sir." 

"  The  whole  truth,  Polly  ?  Only  God  knows  that. 
Your  father  was  in  a  weak  state  of  health ;  he  had  a 
shock  and  a  chill.  We  feared  mischief  to  the  brain. 
Oh  no,  he  is  by  no  means  out  of  the  wood  yet.  Still 
I  have  hope  of  him  ;  I  have  great  hope.  What  do 
you  say,  Strong?  Symptoms  have  undoubtedly 


24:2  POLLY. 

taken  a  more  favorable  turn  during  the  last  hour  or 
two." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,  Sir  Andrew,"  said  the 
local  practitioner,  with  a  profound  bow. 

"  Then,  my  dear  young  lady,  my  answer  to  you,  to 
all  of  you,  is  that,  although  only  God  knows  the 
whole  truth,  there  is,  in  my  opinion,  considerable 
hope — yes,  considerable.  I'll  have  a  word  with  you 
in  the  other  room,  Strong.  Good-bye,  children ; 
keep  up  your  spirits.  I  have  every  reason  to  think 
well  of  the  change  which  has  set  in  within  the  last 
hour." 

The  moment  the  doctors  left  the  room  Polly 
looked  eagerly  round  at  the  others. 

"  Only  God  knows  the  truth,"  she  said.  "  Let  us 
pray  to  him  this  very  minute.  Let's  get  on  our 
knees  at  once." 

They  all  did  so  and  all  were  silent." 

"  What  are  we  to  say,  Polly  ? "  asked  Firefly  at 
last.  "  I  never  did  *  aloud  prayers  '  since  mother 
died." 

«  Hush !  There's  the  Lord's  Prayer,"  said  Polly. 
"  Won't  somebody  say  it  ?  My  voice  is  choking." 

"  I  will,"  said  Flower. 

Nobody  had  noticed  her  before;  now  she  came 
forward,  knelt  down  by  Polly's  side,  and  repeated 
the  prayer  of  prayers  in  a  steady  voice.  When  it 
was  over,  she  put  up  her  hands  to  her  face  and  re 
mained  silent. 

"  What  are  you  saying  now  ?  "  asked  Firefly,  pull 
ing  at  her  skirt. 

"Something  about  myself." 

«  What  is  that?  "  they  all  asked. 

"I've  been  the  wickedest  girl  in  the  whole  of 
England.  I  have  been  asking  God  to  forgive  me." 


A  NOVEL  HIDING-PLACE.  243 

"  Oh,  poor  Flower  ! "  echoed  the  children,  touched 
by  her  dreary,  forsaken  aspect. 

Polly  put  her  arms  round  her  and  kissed  her. 

"  We  have  quite  forgiven  you,  so  of  course  God 
will,"  she  said. 

"  How  noble  you  are  !     Will  you  be  my  friend  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  want  to  have  me.  Oh,  children  ! " 
continued  Polly,  "do  you  think  we  can  any  of 
us  ever  do  anything  naughty  again  if  father  gets 
better?" 

"  He  will  get  better  now,"  said  Firefly. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  NOVEL   HIDING-PLACE. 

WHETHER  it  was  the  children's  faith  or  the 
children's  prayer,  certain  it  is  that  from  that  mo 
ment  the  alarming  symptoms  in  connection  with  Dr. 
Maybright's  illness  abated.  It  was  some  days  be 
fore  he  was  pronounced  out  of  danger,  but  even  that 
happy  hour  arrived  in  due  course,  and  one  by  one 
his  children  were  allowed  to  come  to  see  him. 

Mrs.  Cameron  meanwhile  arranged  matters  pretty 
much  as  she  pleased  down-stairs.  Helen,  who  from 
the  first  had  insisted  on  nursing  her  father  herself, 
had  no  time  to  housekeep.  Polly's  sprained  ankle 
would  not  get  well  in  a  minute,  and,  besides,  other 
circumstances  had  combined  to  reduce  that  young 
lady's  accustomed  fire  and  ardor.  Consequently, 
Mrs.  Cameron  had  matters  all  her  own  way,  and 
there  is  not  the  least  doubt  that  she  and  Scorpion 
between  them  managed  to  create  a  good  deaf  of 
moral  and  physical  disquietude. 

*'  Well,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  when  all  is  said  and 


POLLY. 

done,  that  poor  man  who  is  on  the  flat  of  his  back 
up-stairs  is  my  sainted  Helen's  husband  ;  and  if  at 
such  a  time  as  this  Maria  Cameron  should  harbor 
ill-will  in  her  heart  it  would  but  ill  become  the 
leader  of  some  of  the  largest  philanthropic  societies 
in  Bath.  No,  for  the  present  my  place  is  here,  and 
no  black  looks,  nor  surly  answers,  nor  impertinent 
remarks,  will  keep  Maria  Cameron  from  doing  her 
duty." 

Accordingly  Mrs.  Power  gave  a  month's  notice, 
and  Alice  wept  so  profusely  that  her  eyes  for  the 
time  being  were  seriously  injured.  Scorpion  bit  the 
new  kitchen-maid  Jane  twice,  who  went  into  hyster 
ics  and  expected  hydrophobia  daily.  But  not 
withstanding  these  and  sundry  other  fracas,  Mrs. 
Cameron  steadily  pursued  her  way.  She  looked 
into  account-books,  she  interviewed  the  butcher,  she 
dismissed  the  baker,  she  overhauled  the  store-room, 
and  after  her  own  fashion — and  a  disagreeable  fash 
ion  it  was — did  a  good  deal  of  indirect  service  to  the 
family. 

Flower  in  particular  she  followed  round  so  con 
stantly  and  persistently  that  the  young  girl  began  to 
wonder  if  Mrs.  Cameron  seriously  and  really  intended 
to  punish  her,  by  now  bereaving  her  of  her  senses. 

"  I  don't  think  I  can  stand  it  much  longer,"  said 
Flower  to  Polly.  "  Last  night  I  was  in  bed  and 
asleep  when  she  came  in.  I  was  awfully  tired,  and 
had  just  fallen  into  my  first  sleep,  when  that  de 
testable  dog  snapped  at  my  nose.  There  was  Mrs. 
Cameron  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room  with  a 
lighted  candle  in  her  hand.  'Get  up,'  she  said. 
« What  for  ? '  I  asked.  *  Get  up  this  minute  ! '  she 
said,  and  she  stamped  her  foot.  I  thought  perhaps 
she  would  disturb  your  father,  for  my  room  is  not 
far  away  from  his,  so  I  tumbled  out  of  bed.  '  Now, 


A  NOVEL  HIDING-PLACE.  24:5 

what  is  the  matter  ? '  I  asked.  *  The  matter  ? '  said 
Mrs.  Cameron.  «  Thafs  the  matter !  and  that's  the 
matter !  and  that's  the  matter ! '  And  what  do  you 
think?  She  was  pointing  to  my  stockings  and 
shoes,  and  my  other  clothes.  I  always  do  leave 
them  in  a  little  heap  in  the  middle  of  the  floor; 
they're  perfectly  comfortable  there,  and  it  doesn't 
injure  them  in  th«  least.  Well !  that  awful  woman 
woke  me  out  of  my  sleep  to  put  them  by.  She  stood 
over  me,  and  made  me  fold  the  clothes  up,  and  shake 
out  the  stockings,  and  put  the  shoes  under  a  chair, 
and  all  the  time  that  fiendish  dog  was  snapping  at 
my  heels.  Oh,  it's  intolerable  !  I'll  be  in  a  lunatic 
asylum  if  this  goes  on  much  longer !  " 

Polly  laughed  ;  she  could  not  help  it ;  and  Firefly 
and  David,  who  were  both  listening  attentively, 
glanced  significantly  at  one  another. 

The  next  morning,  very,  very  early,  Firefly  was 
awakened  by  a  bump.  She  sat  up,  rubbed  her  eyes, 
and  murmured,  "  All  right !  "  under  her  breath. 

"Put  something  on,  Fly,  and  be  quick,"  whis 
pered  David's  voice  from  the  door. 

Firefly  soon  tumbled  into  a  warm  frock,  a  thick 
outdoor  jacket,  and  a  little  fur  cap  ;  her  shoes  and 
stockings  were  tumbled  on  anyhow.  Holding  her 
jacket  together — for  she  was  in  too  great  a  hurry  to 
fasten  it — she  joined  David. 

"  I  did  it  last  night,"  he  said ;  "  it's  a  large  hole  ; 
he'll  never  be  discovered  there.  And  now  the  thing 
is  to  get  him." 

"  Oh,  Dave,  how  will  you  manage  that  ?  " 

"  Trust  me,  Fly.  Even  if  I  do  run  a  risk,  I  don't 
care.  Anything  is  better  than  the  chance  of  Flower 
getting  into  another  of  her  passions." 

"  Oh,  anything,  of  course,"  said  Fly.  "  Are  you 
going  to  kill  him,  Dave  ?  " 


K)LLY. 

"  No.  The  hole  is  big ;  he  can  move  about  ill  it 
What  I  thought  of  was  this — we'd  sell  him." 

«  Sell  him  ?    But  he  isn't  ours." 

"No  matter!  He's  a  public  nuisance,  and  he 
must  be  got  rid  of.  There  are  often  men  wander 
ing  on  the  moor  who  would  be  glad  to  buy  a  small 
dog  like  Scorpion.  They'd  very  likely  give  us  a 
shilling  for  him.  Then  we'd  drop  the  shilling  into 
Mrs.  Cameron's  purse.  Don't  you  see  ?  She'd  never 
know  how  it  got  there.  Then,  you  understand,  it 
would  really  have  been  Mrs.  Cameron  who  sold 
Scorpion." 

"  Oh,  delicious ! "  exclaimed  Fly.  "  She'd  very 
likely  spend  the  money  on  postage  stamps  to  send 
round  begging  charity  letters." 

"  So  Scorpion  would  have  done  good  in  the  end," 
propounded  David.  "  But  come  along  now,  Fly. 
The  difficult  thing  is  to  catch  the  little  brute." 

It  was  still  very  early  in  the  morning,  and  the 
corridors  and  passages  were  quite  dark.  David  and 
Fly,  however,  could  feel  their  way  about  like  little 
mice,  and  they  soon  found  themselves  outside  the 
door  of  the  green  room,  which  was  devoted  to  Mrs. 
Cameron. 

"  Do  you  feel  this  !  "  said  David,  putting  out  his 
hand  and  touching  Fly.  "  This  is  a  long  towel ; 
I'm  winding  part  of  it  round  my  hand  and  arm. 
T  don't  want  to  get  hydrophobia,  like  poor  Jane. 
Now,  I'm  going  to  creep  into  Mrs.  Cameron's  room  so 
quietly,  that  even  Scorpion  won't  wake.  I  learned 
how  to  do  that  from  the  black  people  hi  Australia. 
You  may  stand  there,  Fly,  but  you  won't  hear  even 
a  pin  fall  till  I  come  back  with  Scorpion." 

« If  I  don't  hear,  I  feel,"  replied  F)y.  "  My  heart 
does  thump  so.  I'm  just  awfully  excited.  Don't  b« 
very  long  away,  Dave." 


A  NOVEL  HIDING-PLACE.  247 

By  this  time  David  had  managed  to  unhasp  the 
door.  He  pushed  it  open  a  few  inches,  and  then  lay 
flat  down  on  his  face  and  hands.  The  next  moment 
he  had  disappeared  into  the  room,  and  all  was  pro 
foundly  still.  Fly  could  hear  through  the  partly  open 
door  the  gentle  and  regularly  kept- up  sound  of  a  duct 
of  snoring.  After  three  or  four  minutes  the  duet 
became  a  solo.  Still  there  was  no  other  sound,  not  a 
gasp,  not  even  the  pretense  of  a  bark.  More  minutes 
passed  by.  Had  David  gone  to  sleep  on  the  floor  ? 
Was  Scorpion  dead  that  he  had  ceased  to  snore  ? 

These  alarming  thoughts  had  scarcely  passed 
through  her  mind  before  David  rejoined  her. 

"  He's  wrapped  up  in  this  towel,"  he  said.  "  He's 
kicking  with  his  hind  legs,  but  he  can't  get  a  squeak 
out ;  now  come  along." 

Too  careless  and  happy  in  the  success  of  their 
enterprise  even  to  trouble  to  shut  Mrs.  Cameron's 
door,  the  two  children  rushed  down-stairs  and  out  of 
the  house.  They  effected  their  exit  easily  by  opening 
the  study  window.  In  a  moment  or  two  they  were 
in  the  shrubbery. 

"  The  hole  isn't  here,"  said  David.  "  Somebody 
might  find  him  here  and  bring  him  back,  and  that 
would  never  do.  Do  you  remember  Farmer  Long's 
six-acre  field  ?  " 

"Where  he  keeps  the  bull?"  exclaimed  Fly. 
"  You  haven't  made  the  hole  there,  Dave  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have,  in  one  corner !  It's  the  best  place 
in  all  the  world,  for  not  a  soul  will  dare  to  come  near 
the  field  while  the  bull  is  there.  You  needn't  be 
frightened,  Fly  !  He's  always  taken  home  at  night ! 
He's  not  there  now.  But  don't  you  see  how  he'll 
guard  Scorpion  all  day !  Even  Mrs.  Cameron  won't 
dare  to  go  near  the  field  while  the  bull  is  there." 

**  I  see  1 "  responded  Fly,  in  an  appreciative  voice. 


248  POLLY. 

"  You're  a  very  clever  boy,  Dave.  Now  let's  come 
quick  and  pop  him  into  the  hole." 

Farmer  Long's  six-acre  field  was  nearly  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  away,  but  the  children  reached  it  in  good 
time,  and  Fly  looked  down  with  interest  on  the  scene 
of  David's  excavations.  The  hole,  which  must  have 
given  the  little  boy  considerable  labor,  was  nearly 
three  feet  deep,  and  about  a  foot  wide.  In  the  bot 
tom  lay  a  large  beef  bone. 

"  He  won't  like  it  much !  "  said  David.  "  His 
teeth  aren't  good  ;  he  can  only  eat  chicken  bones,  but 
hunger  will  make  him  nibble  it  by  and  by.  Now, 
Fly,  will  you  go  behind  that  furze  bush  and  bring 
me  a  square,  flat  board,  which  you  will  find  there  ?  " 

"  What  a  funny  board  !  "  said  Fly,  returning  in  a 
moment.  "  It's  all  over  little  square  holes." 

"Those  are  for  him  to  breathe  through,"  said 
David.  "  Now  then,  master,  here  you  go !  You  won't 
annoy  any  one  in  particular  here,  unless,  perhaps, 
you  interfere  with  Mr.  Bull's  arrangements.  Hold 
the  board  over  the  top  of  the  hole,  so,  Fly.  Now 
then,  I  hope  you'll  enjoy  yourself,  my  dear  amiable 
little  friend." 

The  bandage  which  firmly  bound  Scorpion's 
mouth  was  removed.  He  was  popped  into  the  hole, 
and  the  wooden  cover  made  fast  over  the  top.  The 
children  went  home,  vowing  eternal  secrecy,  which 
not  even  tortures  should  wring  from  them. 

At  breakfast  that  morning  Mrs.  Cameron  appeared 
late  on  the  scene.  Her  eyes  were  red  with  weeping. 
-She  also  looked  extremely  cross. 

"  Helen,  I  must  request  you  to  have  some  fresh 
coffee  made  for  me.  I  cannot  bear  half  cold  coffee. 
Daisy,  have  the  goodness  to  ring  the  bell.  Yes,  my 
dear  children,  I  am  late.  I  have  a  sad  reason  for 
being  late ;  the  dog  is  nowhere  to  be  found," 


A  NOVEL  HIDING-PLACE.  249 

A  gleam  of  satisfaction  filled  each  young  face. 
Fly,  crimsoning  greatly,  lowered  her  eyes ;  but  David 
looked  tranquilly  full  at  Mrs.  Cameron. 

"  Is  it  that  nice  little  Scorpion  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I'm 
awfully  sorry,  but  I  suppose  he  went  for  a  walk." 

Mrs.  Cameron  glanced  with  interest  at  David's 
sympathetic  face. 

"  No,  my  dear  boy,  that  isn't  his  habit.  The  dear 
little  dog  sleeps,  as  a  rule,  until  just  the  last  moment. 
Then  I  lift  him  gently,  and  carry  him  down-stairs  for 
his  cream." 

"  I  wonder  how  he  likes  that  bare  beef  bone  ?  " 
murmured  Fly,  almost  aloud. 

"  He's  sure  to  come  home  for  his  cream  in  a 
moment  or  two ! "  said  David. 

He  gave  Fly  a  violent  kick  under  the  table. 

"  Helen,"  said  Mrs.  Cameron,  "  be  sure  you  keep 
Scorpion's  cream." 

"  There  isn't  any,"  replied  Helen.  "  I  was  obliged 
to  send  it  up  to  father.  There  was  not  nearly  so 
much  cream  as  usual  this  morning.  I  had  scarcely 
enough  for  father." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  you  have  used  up 
the  dog's  cream  ?  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Cameron.  "  Well, 
really,  that  is  too  much.  The  little  animal  will 
starve,  he  can't  touch  anything  else.  Oh,  where  is 
he  ?  My  little,  faithful  pet !  My  lap  feels  quite 
empty  without  him.  My  dear  children,  I  trust  you 
may  never  love — love  a  little  creature  as  I  love 
Scorpion,  and  then  lose  him.  Yes,  I  am  seriously 
uneasy,  the  dog  would  not  have  left  me  of  his  own 
accord." 

Here,  to  the  astonishment  of  everybody,  and  the 
intense  indignation  of  Mrs.  Cameron,  Fly  burst  into 
a  scream  of  hysterical  laughter,  and  hid  her  face  hi 
Polly's  neck- 


250  POLLY. 

"  What  a  naughty  child ! "  exclaimed  the  good 
lady.  "  You  have  no  sympathy  with  my  pet,  my  dar 
ling  !  Speak  this  minute.  Where  is  the  dog,  miss  ?  " 

"  I  expect  in  his  grave,"  said  Fly. 

Whereupon  Dave  suddenly  disappeared  under  the 
table,  and  all  the  others  stared  in  wonder  at  Fly. 

"  Firefly,  do  you  know  anything  ?  " 

"  I  expect  Scorpion  is  in  his  grave.  Where  is  the 
use  of  making  such  a  fuss  ?  "  responded  Fly. 

And  she  made  a  precipitate  retreat  out  of  the 
window. 

All  the  remainder  of  that  day  was  occupied  in  a 
vain  search  for  the  missing  animal.  Mrs.  Cameron 
strongly  suspected  Firefly,  but  the  only  remark  the 
little  girl  could  be  got  to  make  was — 

"  I  am  sure  Scorpion  is  in  his  grave." 

Mrs.  Cameron  said  that  was  no  answer,  and 
further  insisted  that  the  child  should  be  severely 
punished.  But  as  in  reply  to  that,  Helen  said  firmly 
that  as  long  as  father  was  in  the  house  no  one  should 
punish  the  children  but  him,  she  felt,  for  the  pres 
ent,  at  least,  obliged  to  hold  her  sense  of  revenge  in 
check. 

After  Fly  had  gone  to  bed  that  night,  David  crept 
into  her  room. 

<4  I've  done  it  all  now,"  he  said.  "  I  sold  Scorpion 
to-night  for  a  shilling  to  a  man  who  was  walking 
across  the  moor,  and  I  have  just  popped  the  shilling 
into  Mrs.  Cameron's  purse.  The  horrid  little  brute 
worked  quite  a  big  hole  hi  the  bottom  of  the  grave, 
Fly,  and  he  nearly  snapped  my  fingers  off  when  I 
lifted  him  out  to  give  him  to  Jones.  But  he's  away 
now,  that's  a  comfort.  What  a  silly  thing  you  were, 
Fly,  to  burst  out  laughing  at  breakfast,  and  then  say 
that  Scorpion  was  in  his  grave." 


A  DiLfiMMA, 

tt  But  it  was  so  true,  David.  That  hole  looked 
exactly  like  a  grave." 

"  But  you  have  drawn  suspicion  upon  you.  Now, 
Mrs.  Cameron  certainly  doesn't  suspect  me.  See 
what  she  has  given  me :  this  beautiful  new  two- 
shilling  piece.  She  said  I  was  a  very  kind  boy,  and 
had  done  my  best  to  find  her  treasure  for  her." 

"  Oh,  Dave,  how  could  you  take  it ! " 

"  Couldn't  I,  just !  I'm  not  a  little  muff,  like  you. 
I  intend  to  buy  a  set  of  wickets  with  this.  Well, 
good-night,  Fly;  nobody  need  fear  hydrophobia 
after  this  good  day's  work." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A.  DILEMMA. 

A  NIGHT'S  sleep  had  by  no  means  improved  Mrs. 
Cameron's  temper.  She  came  down-stairs  the  next 
morning  so  snappish  and  disagreeable,  so  much  in 
clined  to  find  fault  with  everybody,  and  so  little 
disposed  to  see  the  faintest  gleam  of  light  in  any 
direction,  that  the  children  almost  regretted  Scor 
pion's  absence,  and  began  to  wonder  if,  after  all,  he 
was  not  a  sort  of  safety-valve  for  Mrs.  Cameron,  and 
more  or  less  essential  to  her  existence. 

Hitherto  this  good  woman  had  not  seen  her 
brother-in-law ;  and  it  was  both  Helen's  and  Polly's 
constant  aim  to  keep  her  from  the  sick  room. 

It  was  several  days  now  since  the  Doctor  was  pro 
nounced  quite  out  of  danger ;  but  the  affection  of  his 
eyes,  which  had  caused  his  children  so  many  anxious 
fears,  had  become  much  worse.  As  the  London 
oculist  had  told  him,  any  shock  or  chill  would  do 


252  POLLY. 

this ;  and  there  was  now  no  doubt  whatever  that  for 
a  time,  at  least,  he  would  have  to  live  in  a  state  of 
total  darkness. 

"  It  is  a  dreadful  fate,"  said  Helen  to  Polly.  "  Oh 
yes,  it  is  a  dreadful  fate,  but  we  must  not  complain, 
for  anything  is  better  than  losing  him." 

"Anything  truly,"  replied  Polly.  "Why,  what 
is  the  matter,  Flower  ?  How  you  stare." 

Flower  had  been  lying  full-length  on  the  old  sofa 
in  the  school-room ;  she  now  sprang  to  her  feet,  and 
came  up  eagerly  to  the  two  sisters. 

"Could  a  person  do  this,"  she  said,  her  voice 
trembling  with  eagerness — "  Could  such  a  thing  as 
this  be  done  :  could  one  give  their  eyes  away  ?  " 

"  Flower ! " 

"  Yes,  I  mean  it.  Could  I  give  my  eyes  to  Dr. 
Maybright — I  mean  just  do  nothing  at  all  but  read  to 
him  and  look  for  him — manage  so  that  he  should 
know  everything  just  through  my  eyes.  Can  I  do 
it  ?  If  I  can,  I  will." 

«  But,  Flower,  you  are  not  father's  daughter,"  said 
Polly  hi  an  almost  offended  tone.  "  You  speak, 
Flower — you  speak  as  if  he  were  all  the  world  to 
you." 

"  So  he  is  all  the  world  to  me ! "  said  Flower.  "  I 
owe  him  reparation,  I  owe  him  just  everything. 
Yes,  Helen  and  Polly,  I  think  I  understand  how  to 
keep  your  father  from  missing  his  eyes  much.  Oh, 
how  glad  I  am,  how  very  glad  I  am  ! " 

From  that  moment  Flower  became  more  or  less  a 
changed  creature.  She  developed  all  kinds  of  quali 
ties  which  the  Maybrights  had  never  given  her  credit 
for.  She  had  a  degree  of  tact  which  was  quite 
astonishing  in  a  child  of  her  age.  There  was  never  a 
jarring  note  in  her  melodious  voice.  With  her 
impatience  gone,  and  her  fiery,  passionate  temper 


A  DILEMMA.  253 

soothed,  she  was  just  the  girl  to  be  a  charming  com 
panion  to  an  invalid. 

However  restless  the  Doctor  was,  he  grew  quieter 
when  Flower  stole  her  little  hand  into  his ;  and  when 
he  was  far  too  weak  and  ill  and  suffering  to  bear  any 
mere  reading  aloud,  he  could  listen  to  Flower  as  she 
recited  one  wild  ballad  after  another. 

Flower  had  found  her  mission,  and  she  was  seldom 
now  long  away  from  the  Doctor's  bedside. 

"  Don't  be  jealous,  Polly,"  said  Helen.  "  All  this 
is  saving  Flower,  and  doing  father  good." 

"There  is  one  comfort  about  it,"  said  Polly,  "that 
as  Aunt  Maria  perfectly  detests  poor  Flower,  or 
Daisy,  as  she  calls  her,  she  is  not  likely  to  go  into 
father's  room." 

"  That  is  true ! "  said  Helen.  "  She  came  to  the 
room  door  the  other  day,  but  Flower  was  repeating 
'  Hiawatha,'  and  acting  it  a  little  bit — you  know  she 
can't  help  acting  anything  she  tries  to  recite — and 
Aunt  Maria  just  threw  up  her  hands  and  rolled  her 
eyes,  and  went  away." 

"  What  a  comfort ! "  said  Polly,  "  Whatever 
happens,  we  must  never  allow  the  dreadful  old  thing 
to  come  near  father." 

Alack !  alas !  something  so  bad  had  happened, 
so  terrible  a  tragedy  had  been  enacted,  that  even 
Flower  and  Hiawatha  combined  could  no  longer  keep 
Mrs.  Cameron  away  from  her  brother-in-law's  apart 
ment. 

On  the  second  day  after  Scorpion's  disappearance, 
the  good  woman  called  Helen  aside,  and  spoke  some 
words  which  filled  her  with  alarm. 

"My  dear!"  she  said,  "I  am  very  unhappy. 
The  little  dog,  the  little  sunbeam  of  my  life,  is  lost. 
I  am  convinced,  Helen !  yes,  I  am  convinced,  that 
there  is  foul  play  in  the  matter.  You,  every  one  of 


254:  POLLY. 

you,  took  a  most  unwarrantable  dislike  to  the  poor, 
faithful  little  animal.  Yes,  every  one  of  you,  with 
the  exception  of  David,  detested  my  Scorpion,  and  I 
am  quite  certain  that  you  all  know  where  he  now 
is." 

"  But  really,  Aunt  Maria,"  said  Helen,  her  fair  face 
flushing,  "  really,  now,  you  don't  seriously  suppose 
that  I  had  anything  to  say  to  Scorpion's  leaving 
you." 

"I  don't  know,  my  dear.  I  exonerate  David. 
Yes,  David  is  a  good  boy ;  he  was  attached  to  the 
dog,  and  I  quite  exonerate  him.  But  as  to  the  rest 
of  you,  I  can  only  say  that  I  wish  to  see  your  father 
on  the  subject." 

"  Oh !  Aunt  Maria ;  you  are  not  going  to  trouble 
father,  so  ill  as  he  is,  about  that  poor,  miserable  little 
dog?" 

"  Thank  you,  Helen  !  thank  you  !  poor  miserable 
little  dog  indeed.  Ah  !  my  dear,  you  have  let  the  cat 
out  of  the  bag  now.  Yes,  my  dear  I  insist  on  seeing 
your  father  with  regard  to  the  poor,  miserable  little 
dog.  Poor,  indeed,  am  I  without  him,  my  little 
treasure,  my  little  faithful  Scorpion."  Here  Mrs. 
Cameron  applied  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes,  and 
Helen  walked  to  the  window,  feeling  almost  driven 
to  despair. 

"  I  think  you  are  doing  wrong !  "  she  said,  pres 
ently.  "  It  is  wrong  to  disturb  a  man  like  father 
about  any  dog,  however  noble.  I  am  sure  I  am  right 
in  saying  that  we  none  of  us  know  anything  about 
Scorpion's  disappearance.  However,  if  you  like,  and 
rather  than  that  father  should  be  worried,  I  will  send 
for  all  the  children,  and  ask  them  the  question  one  by 
one  before  you.  I  am  absolutely  sure  that  they  won't 
think  Scorpion  worth  a  lie." 


FIREFLY.  955 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

FIREFLY. 

HELEN  experienced  some  little  difficulty  in  getting 
her  scattered  brothers  and  sisters  together.  She 
could  not  get  any  of  them  to  think  seriously  of 
Scorpion's  departure.  They  laughed  and  lingered 
over  their  own  pursuits,  and  told  Helen  to  her  face 
that  she  made  a  great  fuss  about  nothing ;  in  short, 
the  best  part  of  an  hour  had  gone  by  before  the  May- 
brights  and  the  two  Dalrymples  assembled  in  Mrs. 
Cameron's  presence  in  the  morning  room. 

"It  is  just  this,  children,"  said  Helen.  "Aunt 
Maria  feels  very  low  about  Scorpion ;  you  see  she 
loved  him."  Groans  here  came  audibly  from  the  lips 
of  Bob  and  Bunny.  "  Yes ! "  said  Helen,  looking 
severely  at  her  two  little  brothers,  "  Aunt  Maria  did 
love  Scorpion.  She  feels  very  lonely  without  him, 
and  she  has  taken  an  idea  into  her  head  that  one  or 
other  of  you  had  something  to  say  to  his  disappear 
ance.  Of  course  I  know  that  hone  of  you  could  be  so 
cruel  and  heartless,  but  to  satisfy  Aunt  Maria,  I  have 
asked  you  all  to  come  here  just  to  tell  her  that  you 
did  nothing  to  make  Scorpion  run  away." 

"  Only  we  are  very  glad  he  did  run  away !  "  said 
Bob,  "  but  as  to  touching  him,  why,  I  wouldn't  with 
a  pair  of  tongs." 

"  I  wish  to  say  a  word ! "  said  Mrs.  Cameron. 
She  came  forward,  and  stood  looking  very  flushed 
and  angry  before  the  assembled  group.  "  I  wish  to 
say  that  I  am  sure  some  of  you  in  your  malice  de 
prived  me  of  my  dog.  I  believe  David  Dalrymple 


;.;56  POLLY. 

i  •:>  be  innocent,  but  as  to  the  rest  of  you,  I  may  aa 
well  say  that  I  do  not  believe  you,  whatever  you 
may  tell  me." 

"  Well  after  that !  "  exclaimed  all  the  children. 

"  I  suppose,  Helen,  after  that  we  may  go  away  ?  " 
said  Firefly,  who  was  looking  very  pale. 

"  No,  Miss !  "  said  Aunt  Maria,  "  you  must  stay. 
Your  sister  Helen  does  not  wish  me  to  do  anything 
to  disturb  your  father,  but  I  assure  you,  children, 
there  are  limits  even  to  my  patience,  and  I  intend  to 
visit  him  this  morning  and  tell  him  the  whole  story, 
unless  before  you  leave  the  room  you  tell  me  the 
truth." 

Firefly's  sallow  little  face  grew  whiter  and  whiter. 
She  glanced  imploringly  at  David,  who  looked  boldly 
and  unconcernedly  back  at  her  ;  then,  throwing 
back  his  head,  he  marched  up  to  Mrs.  Cameron's 
side. 

"  You  believe  that  Jam  innocent,  don't  you  ?  "  he 
said. 

"  Certainly,  my  dear  boy.     I  have  said  so." 

"  In  that  case,  perhaps  you  would  not  mind  my 
going  out  a  little  way  on  the  moor  and  having  a 
good  look  round  for  the  dog,  he  may  have  wandered 
there,  you  know,  and  broken  "his  leg  or  something." 
Mrs.  Cameron  shuddered.  "  In  any  case,"  continued 
David,  with  a  certain  air  of  modest  assurance,  which 
became  him  very  much,  "  it  seems  a  pity  that  I 
should  waste  time  here." 

"  Certainly ;  go,  my  dear  lad,"  answered  Mrs. 
Cameron.  "  Bring  my  little  innocent  suffering 
treasure  back  with  you,  and  I  will  give  you  half 
a  crown." 

David  instantly  left  the  room,  unheeding  a  short, 
sharp  cry  which  issued  from  Firefly's  lips  as  he 
passed  her. 


J1REFLY.  257 

Most  of  the  other  children  were  laughing ;  it  was 
impossible  for  them  to  think  of  anything  in  connec 
tion  with  Scorpion  except  as  a  joke. 

"  Listen,  Aunt  Maria,"  said  Helen.  "  I  am  afraid 
you  must  not  treat  my  brothers  and  sisters  as  you 
propose.  Neither  must  you  trouble  father  without 
the  doctor's  permission.  The  fact  is,  Aunt  Maria, 
we  are  Maybrights,  and  every  one  who  knows  any 
thing  about  us  at  all  must  know  that  we  would  scorn 
to  tell  a  lie.  Our  father  and  our  dear,  dear  mother — 
your  sister  whom  you  loved,  Aunt  Maria,  and  for 
whose  sake  you  are  interested  in  us — taught  us  to 
fear  a  lie  more  than  anything,  much  more  than 
punishment,  much  more  than  discovery.  Oh,  yes, 
\ve  have  heaps  and  heaps  of  faults ;  we  can  tease,  we 
can  be  passionate,  and  idle,  and  selfish ;  but  being 
.Maybrights,  being  the  children  of  our  own  father  and 
mother,  we  can't  lie.  The  fact  is,  we'd  be  afraid 
to." 

Helen's  blue  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

"  Bravo !  Helen ! "  said  Polly,  going  up  to  her 
sister  and  kissing  her.  "  She  says  just  the  simple 
truth,  Aunt  Maria,"  she  continued,  flashing  round 
in  her  bright  way  on  the  old  lady.  "We  are  a 
naughty  set — you  know  that,  don't  you  ? — but  we 
can't  tell  lies;  we  draw  the  line  there." 

"Yes,  we  draw  the  line  there,"  suddenly  said 
Firefly,  in  a  high-pitched  voice,  which  sounded  as  if 
it  was  going  to  crack. 

"  I  admire  bravery,"  said  Mrs.  Cameron,  after  a 
pause.  "  Ask  your  questions,  Helen.  For  my  dead 
sister's  sake  I  will  accept  the  word  of  a  May  bright. 
'Pon  my  word,  you  are  extraordinary  young  people  ; 
but  I  admire  girls  who  are  not  afraid  to  speak  out, 
and  who  uphold  their  parents'  teaching.  Ask  the 
children  quickly,  Helen,  if  they  know  anything  about 


258  POLLY. 

the  dog,  for  after  David's  hint  about  his  having 
strayed  on  that  awful  moor,  and  perhaps  having 
broken  one  of  his  dear  little  legs,  I  feel  more  un 
comfortable  than  ever  about  him.  For  goodness' 
sake,  Helen  !  ask  your  question  quickly,  and  let  me 
get  out  on  the  moor  to  look  for  my  dog." 

"  Children,"  said  Helen,  coming  forward  at  once, 
"  do  you  know  anything  about  Scorpion's  loss,  any 
thing  ?  Now,  I  am  going  to  ask  you  each  singly ; 
as  you  answer  you  can  leave  the  room.  Polly,  I 
begin  with  you." 

One  by  one  the  Maybrights  and  Flower  answered 
very  clear  and  emphatic  "  No's  "  to  Helen's  question, 
and  one  by  one  they  retired  to  wait  for  their  com 
panions  in  the  passage  outside. 

At  last  Helen  put  the  question  to  Firefly.  Two 
big,  green-tinted  hazel  eyes  were  raised  to  her  face. 

"  Yes,  Helen,  I  do  know,"  replied  Firefly. 

Mrs.  Cameron  uttered  a  shriek,  and  almost  fell 
upon  the  little  girl,  but  Helen  very  gently  held  her 
back." 

"  One  minute,"  she  said.  "  Firefly,  what  do  you 
know?" 

"  I'm  not  going  to  tell  you,  Helen."  The  child's 
lips  quivered,  but  her  eyes  looked  up  bravely. 

"  Why  so  ?  Please,  Aunt  Maria,  let  me  speak  to 
her.  Why  won't  you  tell  j.what  you  know,  dear 
Fly  ?  " 

"  Because  I  promised.  There,  I  won't  say  a  word 
more  about  it.  I  do  know,  and  I  won't  tell ;  no  I 
won't  ever,  ever  tell.  You  can  punish  me,  of  course, 
Aunt  Maria." 

«  So  I  will,  Miss.  Take  that  slap  for  your  imper 
tinence.  Oh !  if  you  were  my  child,  should  not  I 
give  you  a  whipping !  You  know  what  has  hap 
pened  to  my  poor  fear  little  dog,  and  you  refuse  to 


FIREFLY.  259 

tell.  But  you  shall  tell — you  wicked  cruel  little 
thing — you  shall,  you  must ! " 

"  Shall  I  take  Firefly  away  and  question  her  ?  " 
asked  Helen.  "  Please,  Aunt  Maria,  don't  be  too 
stern  with  her.  She  is  a  timid  little  thing ;  she  is 
not  accustomed  to  people  blaming  her.  She  has 
some  reason  for  this,  but  she  will  explain  every 
thing  to  her  sister  Nell,  won't  you,  darling  ?  " 

The  child's  lips  were  trembling,  and  her  eyes 
filling  with  tears. 

"  There's  no  use  in  my  going  away  with  you, 
Helen,"  she  replied,  steadily.  "  I  am  willing  Aunt 
Maria  should  punish  me,  but  I  can't  tell  because 
I'm  a  Maybright.  It  would  be  telling  a  lie  to  say 
what  I  know.  I  don't  mind  you  punishing  me 
rather  badly,  Aunt  Maria." 

"Oh,  you  don't,  don't  you?"  said  Aunt- Maria. 
"  Listen ;  was  not  that  the  sound  of  wheels  ?  " 

"  The  doctor  to  see  father,"  explained  Helen. 
"  I  ought  to  go." 

"  Excuse  me,  my  dear,  I  particularly  wish  to  see 
your  father's  medical  adviser  this  morning.  I  will 
not  detain  him  long,  but  I  have  a  question  I  wish  to 
put  to  him.  You  stay  with  your  little  sister,  Helen. 
I  shall  be  back  soon." 

Mrs.  Cameron  trotted  out  of  the  room.  In  about 
ten  minutes,  with  an  exultant  look  on  her  face,  she 
returned.  Firefly  was  now  clasped  tightly  in 
Helen's  arms  while  she  sobbed  her  heart  out  on  her 
breast. 

"  Well,  Helen,  has  this  most  impertinent,  naughty 
child  confessed  ?  " 

"  She  has  not,"  said  Helen.  "  I  don't  understand 
her  ;  she  seems  in  sore  trouble.  Dear  little  Fly  ! " 

" '  Dear  little  Fly,'  indeed  !  Naughty,  wicked 
little  Fly,  you  mean.  However,  my  dear,  I  have 


260  POLLY. 

come  to  tell  you  that  I  have  just  had  an  interview 
with  the  excellent  doctor  who  attends  your  father. 
He  has  gone  up  to  see  him  now.  He  says  he  does 
not  want  to  see  you  at  all  to-day,  Helen.  Well,  I 
spoke  to  Dr.  Strong,  and  he  was  astonished — abso 
lutely  astonished,  when  he  heard  that  I  had  not  yet 
been  permitted  to  see  my  brother-in-law.  I  told 
him  quite  frankly  that  you  girls  were  jealous  of  my 
influence,  and  used  his  (Dr.  Strong's)  name  to  keep 
me  out  of  my  poor  brother's  room.  '  But  my  dear 
madam,'  he  said,  '  the  young  ladies  labor  under  a 
mistake — a  vast,  a  monstrous  mistake.  Nothing 
could  do  my  poor  patient  more  good  than  to  see  a 
sensible,  practical  lady  like  yourself ! '  '  Then  I 
may  see  him  this  afternoon  ? '  I  asked.  *  Undoubt 
edly,  Mrs.  Cameron,'  he  replied ;  *  it  will  be  some 
thing  for  my  patient  to  look  forward  to.'  I  hava 
arranged  then,  my  dear  Helen,  to  pay  a  visit  to  your 
father  at  three  o'clock  to-day." 

Helen  could  not  repress  a  sigh. 

Mrs.  Cameron  raised  her  eyebrows  with  a  certain 
suggestive  and  aggravating  gesture. 

"  Ah,  my  dear,"  she  said,  "  you  must  try  to  keep 
under  that  jealous  temperament.  Jealousy  fostered 
in  the  heart  overshadows  and  overclouds  all  life.  Be 
warned  in  time." 

"  About  this  child,"  said  Helen,  drawing  Firefly 
forward,  "  what  is  to  be  done  about  her  ?  You  will 
be  lenient,  won't  you,  Aunt  Maria,  for  she  is  very 
young?" 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Mrs.  Cameron,  with  the  manner 
of  one  who  had  not  heard  a  word  of  Helen's  last 
speech,  "  is  this  naughty  little  girl  attached  to  her 
father?" 

Firefly  raised  her  tear-dimmed  face. 

M  He  is  my  darling "  she  began. 


FIREFLY,  261 

"  Ah,  yes,  my  dear ;  I  detest  exaggerated  expres 
sions.  If  you  love  him,  you  can  now  prove  it.  You 
would  not,  for  instance,  wish  to  give  him  anxiety,  or 
to  injure  him  ?  " 

*'  Oh,  no,  oh,  no  !     I  would  rather  die." 

"  Again  that  sentimental  exaggeration ;  but  you 
shall  prove  your  words.  If  you  have  not  confessed 
to  me  before  three  o'clock  to-day  all  you  know  about 
the  loss  of  my  treasured  dog  Scorpion,  I  shall  take 
you  into  your  father's  sick  room,  and  in  his  presence 
dare  you  to  keep  your  wicked  secret  to  yourself  any 
longer." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  mean  that,"  said  Firefly.  "  You 
can't  be  so  awfully  cruel.  Nell,  Nell,  do  say  that 
Aunt  Maria  doesn't  mean  that." 

The  child  was  trembling  violently  ;  her  little  face 
was  white  as  death,  her  appealing  eyes  would  have 
softened  most  hearts. 

"  Oh,  Nell,  what  shall  I  do  if  I  make  father  worse 
again  ?  For  I  can't  tell  what  I  know ;  it  would  be  a 
lie  to  tell  it,  and  you  said  yourself,  Nell,  that  no 
Maybright  told  lies." 

Mrs.  Cameron  smiled  grimly. 

"  I  have  said  it,"  she  remarked :  "  it  all  rests  with 
yourself,  Firefly.  I  shall  be  ready  either  to  hear 
your  confession  or  to  take  you  to  your  father  at 
three  o'clock  to-day." 

With  these  words  the  good  lady  walked  out  of  the 
room. 


262  POLLY, 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

TO    THE    BESCTJE. 

AN  hour  later  a  wildly  anxious  and  disconsolate 
little  figure  might  have  been  seen  knocking  at 
Polly's  door.  No  answer  from  within.  A  moment 
of  suspense  on  the  part  of  the  little  figure,  followed 
by  another  and  louder  knock  ;  then  the  small,  ner 
vous  fingers  turned  the  handle  of  the  door,  and  Fire 
fly  pushed  her  head  in  and  peered  anxiously  round. 

Oh,  dear  !  oh,  dear !  No  Polly  was  in  the  room. 
And  why  did  the  great  eight-day  clock  in  the  hall 
strike  twelve  ?  Why,  on  this  morning  of  all  morn 
ings,  should  time  go  on  wings  ?  Firefly  had  great 
faith  in  Polly's  powers  of  helping  her.  But  the  mo 
ments  were  too  precious  to  waste  them  hi  trying  to 
find  her.  She  had  another  search  to  make,  and  she 
must  set  out  at  once.  No,  not  quite  at  once.  She 
clasped  her  hands  to  her  beating  little  heart  as  an 
idea  came  to  her  on  which  she  might  act.  A  deli 
cious  and  yet  most  sorrowful  idea,  which  would  fill 
her  with  the  keenest  pain,  and  yet  give  her  the  very 
sweetest  consolation.  She  would  go  and  get  a  kiss 
from  her  father  before  she  set  out  on  the  search, 
which  might  be  a  failure.  Very  swiftly  she  turned, 
flew  down  the  long  gallery  which  led  to  Dr.  May- 
bright's  room,  and  went  in. 

Dr.  Strong  had  paid  his  visit  and  gone  away. 
Firefly's  heart  gave  a  bound  of  delight,  for  her  father 
was  alone.  He  was  lying  supported  high  in  bed 
with  pillows.  His  almost  sightless  eyes  were  not 
bandaged,  they  were  simply  closed ;  his  hands,  with 


TO  THE  RESCUE, 

their  long,  sensitive,  purposeful  fingers  lay  on  the 
white  sheets  in  a  restful  attitude.  Already  the 
acute  hearing  of  the  blind  had  come  to  him,  and  as 
Firefly  glided  up  to  the  bedside,  he  turned  his  head 
quickly.  Her  two  small  hands  went  with  a  kind  of 
bound  into  one  of  his.  His  fingers  closed  over 
them. 

"  This  is  my  Fly,"  said  the  Doctor ;  "  a  very  ex 
cited  and  feverish  Fly,  too.  How  these  small  fin 
gers  flutter  1  What  is  it,  my  darling  ?  " 

"  A  kiss,  father,"  said  Fly,  "  a  great  hug  of  a  kiss ! 
please,  please.  I  want  it  so  awfully  badly." 

"  Climb  up  on  the  bed,  and  put  your  arms  round 
me.  Is  that  all  right  ?  My  dear  little  one,  you  are 
not  well." 

"  I'm  quite  well,  now,  while  I'm  loving  you.  Oh  ! 
aren't  you  just  the  darlingest  of  all  darling  fathers  ? 
There,  another  kiss ;  and  another !  Now  I'm 
better." 

She  glided  off  the  bed,  pressed  two  long,  last  fer 
vent  embraces  on  the  Doctor's  white  hand,  and 
rushed  out  of  the  room. 

"I'm  lots  stronger  now,"  she  said  to  herself. 
"  Whatever  happens,  I'll  have  those  kisses  to  hold 
on  to  and  remember ;  but  nothing  shall  happen,  for 
I'm  going  to  find  David ;  he  is  sure  to  put  things 
right  for  me." 

Meanwhile,  Polly's  absence  from  her  room  was 
accounted  for,  also  the  fact  of  Fly  finding  her  father 
alone.  It  was  seldom  that  this  dearly  loved  and 
favorite  father,  physician,  and  friend,  was  left  to  in 
dulge  hi  solitude.  It  was  the  privilege  of  all  priv 
ileges  to  sit  by  him,  read  to  him,  and  listen  to  his 
talk ;  and  a  girl,  generally  two  girls,  occupied  the 
coveted  chairs  by  his  bedside.  On  this  morning, 
however,  poor  Helen  was  detained,  first  by  Aunt 


264:  POLLY, 

Maria,  and  then  by  necessary  housekeeping  cares ; 
and  Polly  and  Flower  were  deeply  engrossed  over  a 
matter  of  considerable  importance. 

When  Polly  had  replied  in  the  negative  to  Helen's 
question,  she  lingered  for  a  moment  in  the  passage 
outside  the  morning-room,  then  started  off  to  find 
Nurse  and  little  Pearl.  Flower,  however,  waited 
with  a  feeling  of  curiosity,  or  perhaps  something 
more,  to  hear  what  the  others  would  say.  She  was 
witness,  therefore,  through  the  open  door,  of  Fire 
fly's  curious  mixture  of  avowal  and  denial,  and  when 
Mrs.  Cameron  went  away  to  consult  the  doctor  who 
attended  Dr.  May  bright,  she  coolly  waited  in  an  ad 
joining  room,  and  when  the  good  woman  returned, 
once  more  placed  herself  within  earshot.  No  May- 
bright  would  dream  of  evesdropping,  but  Flower's 
upbringing  had  been  decidedly  lax  with  regard  to 
this  and  other  matters. 

In  full  possession,  therefore,  of  the  facts  of  the 
catastrophe  which  was  to  overpower  poor  little  Fly 
and  injure  Dr.  May  bright,  she  rushed  off  to  find 
Polly.  Polly  was  feeling  intensely  happy,  playing 
with  and  fondling  her  sweet  little  baby  sister,  when 
Flower,  pale  and  excited,  rushed  into  the  room. 
Nurse,  who  had  not  yet  forgiven  Flower,  turned  her 
back  upon  the  young  lady,  and  hummed  audibly. 
Flower,  however,  was  far  too  much  absorbed  to  heed 
her. 

"  Listen,  Polly !  you  have  got  to  come  with  me 
at  once.  Give  baby  back  to  Nurse.  You  must 
come  with  me  directly." 

"  If  it  is  anything  more  about  Scorpion,  I  refuse 
to  stir,"  answered  Polly.  "  If  there  is  a  creature  in 
this  world  whom  I  absolutely  loathe,  it's  that  de 
testable  little  animal ! " 

"You  don't    hate    him  more  than  I  do,"  sai4 


TO  THE  RESCUE,  265 

Flower.  "  My  news  is  about  him.  Still,  you  must 
come,  for  it  also  means  Firefly  and  your  father. 
They'll  both  get  into  awful  trouble — I  know  they 
will — if  we  don't  save  them." 

"What?"  said  Polly;  "what?  Take  baby, 
please,  Nurse.  Now,  what  is  it,  Flower  ?  "  pulling 
her  outside  the  nursery  door.  "  What  has  that 
horrid  Scorpion  to  do  with  Fly  and  father  ? " 

"Only  this:  Fly  has  confessed  that  she  knows 
what  has  become  of  him,  but  she's  a  dear  little  brick 
and  won't  tell.  She  says  she's  a  Maybright,  and 
they  don't  tell  lies.  Three  cheers  for  the  May- 
brights,  if  they  are  all  like  Fly,  say  I !  Well,  the 
little  love  won't  tell,  and  Mrs.  Cameron  is  fit  to 
dance,  and  what  does  she  do  but  get  leave  from  Dr. 
Strong  to  see  your  father,  and  she's  going  to  drag 
Fly  before  him  at  three  o'clock  to-day,  and  make  a 
fine  story  of  what  happened.  She  holds  it  over  Fly 
that  your  father  will  be  made  very  ill  again.  Very 
likely  he  will,  if  ice  don't  prevent  it." 

"  It's  horrible  !  "  said  Polly ;  "  but  how  can  we 
prevent  it,  Flower  ?  " 

"Oh,  easily  enough.  You  must  guard  your 
father's  room.  Let  no  one  in  under  any  pretence 
whatever  until  I  have  found  David." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  finding  David  ?  What 
can  David  have  to  say  to  it  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  has  he  not  ?  Poor  Fly  !  David  has  got 
her  into  his  toils  ?  David  is  at  the  bottom  of  all 
this,  I  am  convinced.  I  guessed  it  the  moment  I 
saw  him  go  up  so  boldly  to  Mrs.  Cameron  and  pre 
tend  to  be  sorry  about  the  dog.  He  sorry  about 
Scorpion!  He  hates  him  more  than  any  of  us." 

"But  then — I  don't  understand;  if  that  is  so, 
David  told  a  deliberate  lie,  Flower." 

Flower  colored. 


266  POLLY. 

"We  have  hot  been  brought  up  like  the 
brights,"  she  said.  "  Oh,  yes,  we  could  tell  a  lie ; 
we  were  not  brought  up  to  be  particular  about 
good  things, — or  to  avoid  bad  things.  We  were 
brought  up — well,  just  anyhow." 

Polly  stole  up  to  Flower  and  kissed  her. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come  to  learn  of  my  father," 
she  said.  "  Now  do  tell  me  what  we  are  to  do  for 
poor,  poor  Fly.  Do  you  think  David  is  guilty,  and 
that  he  has  got  Fly  to  promise  not  to  tell  ?  " 

"  Yes,  that  is  what  I  think.  David  must  be  found, 
and  got  to  confess,  and  so  release  Fly  of  her  promise 
before  three  o'clock.  David  is  a  dreadful  boy  to  find 
when  he  takes  it  into  his  head  to  hide  on  purpose; 
but  I  must  look  for  him,  and  in  the  meantime  will 
you  guard  your  father,  Polly  ?  " 

"  As  a  dragon,"  said  Polly.  "  You  may  trust  me 
about  that  at  least.  I  will  go  to  his  room  at  once  to 
make  all  things  safe,  for  there  is  really  no  trusting 
Aunt  Maria  when  she  has  a  scheme  of  vengeance 
with  regard  to  that  dog  in  her  head.  Good-bye, 
Flower ;  I'm  off  to  father." 

Polly  turned  away,  and  Flower  ran  quickly  down 
stairs.  She  knew  she  had  not  a  moment  to  lose,  for 
David,  as  she  expressed  it,  was  a  very  difficult  boy 
to  find  when  he  took  it  into  his  head  to  hide  him 
self. 

Flower  had  not  been  on  the  moor  since  that  dread 
ful  day  when  she  had  taken  the  baby  away.  So 
much  had  happened  since  then,  so  many  dreadful 
things  had  come  to  pass,  that  she  shuddered  at  the 
bare  thought  of  the  great  and  desolate  moorland. 
Nevertheless  she  guessed  that  David  would  hide 
there,  and  without  a  moment's  hesitation  turned  her 
steps  in  the  direction  of  Peg-Top  Moor.  She  had 
walked  for  nearly  half  an  hour,  and  had  reached 


ft)  T#E  RESCtffi,  26? 

rather  a  broad  extent  of  table  land,  when  she  saw — 
their  little  figures  plainly  visible  against  the  sky — 
two  children,  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  eagerly 
talking  together.  There  was  not  the  least  doubt  as 
to  their  identity  ;  the  children — a  boy  and  a  girl — 
were  David  and  Fly.  Fly  was  holding  David's  arm, 
and  gesticulating  and  talking  eagerly  ;  David's  head 
was  turned  away.  Flower  quickened  her  steps  al 
most  into  a  run.  If  only  she  could  reach  the  two  be 
fore  they  parted ;  above  all  things,  if  she  could  reach 
them  before  David  saw  her  ! 

Alas  and  alas !  she  was  too  late  for  this.  David 
suddenly  pushed  his  little  companion  a  couple  of  feet 
away  from  him,  and  to  all  appearance  vanished  into 
the  solid  ground. 

Fly,  crying  bitterly,  began  to  run  to  meet  Flower. 
Flower  held  out  her  arms  as  the  little  girl  ap 
proached. 

"  What  is  it,  Firefly  ?  Tell  me,  has  David  con 
fessed?" 

"  Oh,  what  do  you  know  about  it,  Flower  ?  Oh, 
what  am  I  to  do,  what  am  I  to  do  ?  " 

"  You  are  to  go  quietly  home,"  said  Flower,  speak 
ing  in  a  voice  of  authority.  "  You  are  to  go  quietly 
home,  and  leave  this  matter  in  my  hands.  I  know  all 
about  it,  and  just  what  David  has  done.  He  has 
bound  you  by  a  sort  of  oath,  you  poor  little  thing — 
you  dear,  brave  little  thing !  Never  mind,  Fly  ;  you 
leave  David  to  me.  I  expect  I  shall  find  him  now — 
that  is,  if  you  don't  keep  me  too  long  talking.  Go 
home,  and  leave  matters  to  me." 

"  But  Flower — Flower,  you  do  comfort  me  a  little  ; 
but  Flower,  it  will  soon  be  three  o'clock,  and  then — 
and  then — oh,  dear  father !  Oh,  it  is  so  dreadful !  " 

"  No,  you  silly  mite ;  it  is  not  dreadful  at  all. 
Polly  is  in  charge  of  the  Doctor.  She  is  sitting  with 


POLLY. 

him  now,  and  the  door  is  locked,  and  the  key  is  in 
Polly's  pocket,  and  she  has  promised  me  not  to  open 
that  door  to  any  one — no,  Fly,  not  to  a  hundred  of 
your  Aunt  Marias — until  I  bring  David  home." 

Fly's  face  underwent  a  transformation.  Her  big 
eyes  looked  full  up  into  Flower's.  A  smile  flitted 
across  her  quivering  lips.  With  a  sudden,  passionate 
gesture,  she  stooped  down  and  kissed  Flower's 
fingers,  then  ran  obediently  back  hi  the  direction  of 
Sleepy  Hollow. 

**  She  is  a  perfect  little  darling ! "  said  Flower  to 
herself.  "  If  Master  David  does  not  rue  it  for 
making  her  suffer,  my  name  is  not  Flower 
Dalrymple." 

She  ran  on  swiftly.  She  was  always  very  quick 
and  light  in  her  movements.  Soon  she  came  to  the 
place  where  David  had  to  all  appearance  disappeared. 
She  did  not  stay  there  long.  She  ran  on  to  where 
the  bracken  grew  thick  and  long,  then  suddenly  lay 
flat  down  on  the  ground,  and  pressed  her  ear  close  to 
Mother  Earth.  What  she  heard  did  not  satisfy  her. 
She  rose  again,  repeating  the  same  process  several 
times.  Suddenly  her  eyes  brightened ;  she  raised  her 
head,  and  listened  attentively,  then  she  whistled  a 
long  peculiar  note.  There  was  no  answer,  but 
Flower's  face  retained  its  watchful,  intent  expression. 
She  laid  her  head  down  once  more  close  to  the 
ground,  and  began  to  speak,  "  David,  David,  I  know 
you  are  there ;  there  is  no  use  in  your  hiding.  Come 
here,  I  want  you,  I,  Flower.  I  will  give  you  two 
minutes,  David ;  if  you  don't  come  then  I'll  keep  the 
threat  I  made  when  you  made  me  angry  with  you 
at  Ballarat." 

A  perfect  silence  followed  Flower's  words.  She 
still  lay  flat  on  the  ground.  One  of  the  minutes 
flew  by. 


OH,  FIE  !  POLLY.  269 

«  I'll  keep  my  word,  David ! "  she  said  again. 
«  You  know  me  ;  you  know  what  my  threat  means. 
Three-quarters  of  a  minute  more,  half  a  minute,  then 
I'll  go  home,  and  I'll  do  what  I  said  I  would  do  when 
you  made  me  angry  at  Ballarat." 

Again  there  was  silence,  but  this  time  quickly 
broken;  a  boy's  black  head  appeared  above  the 
bracken,  a  little  brown  hand  was  held  out,  and  David, 
without  troubling  himself  to  move  a  hair's  breadth, 
looked  full  into  his  sister's  face. 

"  I  don't  want  to  lose  you,  Flower !  "  he  said. 
"  You  are  the  only  person  in  all  the  world  I  care 
twopence  about.  Now  what's  the  row  ?  " 

"  You're  a  cowardly  boy,  David,  and  I'm  ashamed 
of  you  ;  come  with  me  this  minute." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

OH,  PIE  !    POLLY. 

WHILE  these  events  were  taking  place,  and  the 
children  in  their  various  ways  were  preparing  check 
mate  for  Aunt  Maria  Cameron,  that  good  lady  was 
having  a  by  no  means  unexciting  experience  of  her 
own.  After  her  housekeeping  cares  were  over,  after 
she  had  interviewed  Mrs.  Power,  and  made  Alice 
thoroughly  uncomfortable ;  after,  in  short,  meaning 
it  all  the  while  for  the  best,  she  had  succeeded  in 
jarring  the  whole  household  machinery  to  the  utmost, 
it  was  her  custom  morning  after  morning  to  retire 
with  Scorpion  into  the  seldom  used  drawing-room, 
and  there,  seated  comfortably  in  an  old-fashioned 
arm-chair,  with  her  feet  well  supported  on  a  large 
cushion,  and  the  dog  on  her  lap,  to  devote  herself 
to  worsted  work.  Not  crewel  work,  not  church 


270  POLLY. 

embroidery,  not  anything  which  would  admit  of  the 
use  of  modern  art  colors,  but  genuine,  old-fashioned 
worsted  work.  Mrs.  Cameron  delighted  in  the 
flaring  scarlets,  pinks,  greens,  blues,  and  mauves  of 
thirty  years  ago.  She  admired  with  all  her  soul 
the  hard,  staring  flowers  which  these  colors 
produced.  They  looked,  she  said,  substantial  and 
durable.  They  looked  like  artificial  flowers  ;  nobody 
could  mistake  them  for  the  real  article,  which  was 
occasionally  known  to  be  the  case  with  that  flimsy, 
in  her  opinion,  ugly,  art  embroidery. 

No,  no,  Mrs.  Cameron  would  not  be  smitten  by  the 
art  craze.  "  Let  nature  be  nature ! "  she  would  say, 
"  and  worsted  work  be  worsted  work,  and  don't  let 
us  try  to  clash  the  poor  things  into  one,  as  that 
wretched  art-school  is  always  endeavoring  to  do." 
So  each  morning  Mrs.  Cameron  plied  her  worsted 
needle,  and  Scorpion  slumbered  peacefully  on  her 
knee.  She  liked  to  sit  with  her  back  to  the  light,  so 
that  it  should  fall  comfortably  on  her  work,  and  her 
own  eyes  be  protected  from  an  extensive  and  very 
beautiful  view  of  the  south  moor. 

Mrs.  Cameron  hated  the  moor  ;  it  gave  her,  as 
she  expressed  it,  "  the  creeps,"  and  on  all  occasions 
she  avoided  looking  at  it.  On  this  morning,  as 
usual,  she  took  out  her  large  roll  of  worsted  work, 
and  prepared  to  ground  a  huge,  impossible  arum  lily. 
Her  thoughts,  however,  were  not,  as  usual,  with  her 
work.  Her  cheeks  were  flushed,  and  her  whole  face 
expressed  annoyance  and  anxiety. 

"  How  I  miss  even  his  dear  little  playful  bite  !  " 
she  said  aloud,  a  big  tear  falling  on  her  empty  lap. 
"  Ah,  my  Scorpion !  why  did  I  love  you,  but  to  lose 
you  ?  How  true  are  the  poet's  words, — 

'  I  never  loved  a  clear  gazelle.' 


OH,  FIE  !  POLLY.  271 

Well,  I  must  say  it,  I  seldom  came  across  more 
wicked,  heartless  children  than  the  Maybrights  and 
Daisy  Rymple.  David  is  really  the  only  one  of  the 
bunch  worth  rearing.  Ah,  my  poor  sister !  your 
removal  has  doubtless  spared  you  many  sorrows,  for 
what  could  you  expect  of  the  future  of  such  a  family 
as  yours?  Now,  what  is  that  ?  This  moor  is  enough 
to  keep  anybody's  nerves  in  a  state  of  tension. 
What  is  that  awful  sound  approaching  the  house  ?  " 

"  The  noise  in  question  was  the  unmistakable  one 
of  a  woman's  loud  sobbing.  It  came  nearer  and 
nearer,  gaining  in  fulness  and  volume  as  it  ap 
proached  the  house. 

Mrs.  Cameron  was  always  intensely  curious.  She 
threw  open  the  drawing-room  window ;  and  as  the 
sufferer  approached,  effectually  stopped  her  progress 
with  her  own  stout  person. 

"  Now,  my  dear,  good  creature,  what  is  this  most 
unpleasant  sound  ?  Don't  you  know  that  it  is  fright 
fully  bad- mannered  to  cry  in  that  loud,  unrestrained 
fashion.  Pray  restrain  yourself.  You  are  quite 
childish.  You  cannot  know  what  real  affliction 

means.  Now,  if  you  had  lost  a — a .  If,  my  poor 

woman,  you  had  lost  a  dear  little  dog  !  " 

"  Is  it  a  dog  ?  "  gasped  Mrs.  Ricketts,  for  it  was 
she.  "  Is  it  a  dog  ?  Oh,  my  word  !  Much  you  know 
about  'fictions  and  such- like !  Let  me  go  to  the 
house,  ma'am.  It  isn't  to  you  as  I  has  come  to  tell 
my  tale." 

"  Then  let  me  inform  you  that  you  are  going  to 
tell  it  to  no  one  else.  Here  I  stand,  and  here  I  re 
main  until  you  choose  to  explain  to  me  the  reason 
of  your  loud  bursts  of  uncontrollable  grief.  During 
the  illness  of  its  master  I  am  the  mistress  here,  and 
either  you  speak  to  me  or  you  go  home." 

Mrs.  Ricketts  had  by  this  time  so  far  restrained 


272  POLLY. 

her  sobs  as  to  be  able  to  take  a  long  and  very  acute 
glance  at  the  lady  in  question.  Doubtless  she  was 
face  to  face  with  the  formidable  Mrs.  Cameron,  that 
terrible  personage  who  had  got  her  Maggie  dismissed, 
and  who  had  locked  up  poor  darling  Miss  Polly  for 
days  in  her  bedroom. 

There  was  no  one,  perhaps,  in  the  world  whom 
Mrs.  Ricketts  more  cordially  disliked  than  this  good 
lady,  but  all  the  same,  it  was  now  her  policy  to  pro 
pitiate  her.  She  smoothed,  therefore,  her  brow,  dried 
her  eyes,  and,  with  a  profound  courtesy,  began  her 
tale. 

"  Ef  you  please,  ma'am,  it's  this  way ;  it's  my 
character  that's  at  stake.  I  always  was,  and  always 
will  be,  honest  of  the  honest.  'Ard  I  works,  ma'am, 
and  the  bread  of  poverty  I  eats,  but  honest  I  am, 
and  honest  I  brings  up  those  fatherless  lambs  my 
children." 

Mrs.  Cameron  waved  one  of  her  fat  hands  impres 
sively. 

"  Pardon  me,  my  good  woman.  I  am  really  not 
interested  in  your  family.  Pray  come  to  the  point, 
and  then  go  home." 

"  To  the  p'int,  ma'am  ?  Oh,  yes,  I'll  come  to  the 
p'int.  This  is  the  p'int,  ef  you  please,  ma'am,"  and 
she  suddenly  thrust,  almost  into  Mrs.  Cameron's 
dazzled  face,  the  splendid  gleam  and  glitter  of  a  large 
unset  diamond.  "  This  is  the  p'int,  ma'am  ;  this  is 
what's  to  take  my  character  away,  and  the  bread 
out  of  the  mouths  of  my  innocent  children." 

Mrs.  Cameron  never  considered  herself  a  worldly 
woman.  She  was  undoubtedly  a  very  Christian- 
minded,  charitable,  good  woman,  but  all  the  same, 
she  loved  fine  houses  and  big  dinners  and  rich  ap 
parel,  and  above  all  things  she  adored  jewelry. 
Flowers, — that  is,  natural  flowers — had  never  yet 


OH,  FIE  !  POLLY.  273 

drawn  a  smile  out  of  her.  She  had  never  pined  for 
them  or  valued  them,  but  jewels,  ah!  they  were 
worth  possessing.  She  quite  gasped  now,  as  she 
realized  the  value  of  the  gem  which  Mrs.  Ricketts  so 
unceremoniously  thrust  under  her  nose. 

"  A  diamond !  Good  gracious !  How  did  you 
come  by  it  ?  A  most  valuable  diamond  of  extraor 
dinary  size.  Give  it  to  me  this  moment,  my  good 
dear  creature !  and  come  into  the  drawing-room. 
You  can  step  in  by  this  open  window.  We  won't 
be  disturbed  in  here.  I  suppose  you  were  weeping 
in  that  loud  and  violent  manner  at  the  thought  of 
the  grief  of  the  person  who  had  lost  this  treasure  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am,  I  were  a  sobbing  at  the  grief  of  her 
what  ''ad  it.  Oh,  my  word  !  And  the  young  lady 
said  for  sure  as  I'd  get  nine-and-fourpence  halfpenny 
for  it.  No,  ma'am,  I  won't  go  into  the  'ouse,  thank 
you.  Oh  dear!  oh  dear!  the  young  lady  did  set 
store  by  it,  and  said  for  certain  I'd  get  my  nine-and- 
fourpence  halfpenny  back,  but  when  I  took  the  stone 
to  the  shop  to-day,  and  asked  the  baker  to  give  me 
some  bread  and  let  this  go  partly  to  pay  the  account, 
he  stared  at  me  and  said  as  I  wasn't  honest,  and 
he  thrust  it  back  in  my  hand.  Oh,  dearie  me  !  oh, 
dearie  me !  the  foreign  young  lady  shouldn't  have 
done  it!" 

"  I  am  very  sure  that  you're  honest,  my  good 
creature  !  Now,  do  tell  me  about  this  stone.  Ho\V 
did  you  come  by  it  ?  " 

"  It  was  the  young  lady,  ma'am ;  the  young  lady 
from  Australia." 

"  Daisy  Rymple,  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Miss  Flower,  she  called  herself,  ma'am.  She 
come  to  me  in  sore  plight  late  one  evening,  when 
we  was  all  in  bed,  and  'Mrs.  Ricketts,'  said  she, 
dear  lamb,  '  will  you  help  me  to  go  away  to  Mrs. 


274:  POLLY. 

Cameron,  to  Bath  ?  I  want  the  money  to  go  third 
class  to  Bath.  Can  you  let  me  have  nine  shillings 
and  fourpence  halfpenny,  Mrs.  Ricketts?  and  I'll 
give  you  this  for  the  money ! '  and  she  flashed  that 
bit  of  a  glittering  stone  right  up  into  my  eyes.  My 
word,  I  thought  as  I  was  blinded  by  it.  '  You'll  get 
most  like  two  pounds  for  it,  Mrs.  Ricketts',  she  said, 
«for  my  father  told  me  it  was  worth  a  sight  of 
money.'  That's  how  I  come  by  it,  ma'am,  and  that's 
the  way  I  was  treated  about  it  to-day." 

Mrs.  Cameron  slowly  drew  out  her  purse. 

"  I  will  give  you  two  sovereigns  for  the  stone  ! " 
she  said.  "  There,  take  them  and  go  home,  and  say 
nothing  about  the  money.  It  will  be  the  worse  for 
you  if  you  do ;  now  go  quickly  home." 

Mrs.  Ricketts'  broad  face  was  one  glow  of  delight. 
She  dropped  another  courtesy,  and  tried  to  articulate 
some  words  of  thanks,  but  Mrs.  Cameron  had  already 
disappeared  into  the  drawing-room,  where  she  now 
sat,  holding  the  diamond  hi  the  palm  of  her  open 
hand. 

She  knew  enough  about  precious  stones  to  guess 
at  something  of  its  probable  value.  The  idea  of  in 
this  way  possessing  herself  of  Flower's  diamond  never 
for  a  moment  entered  her  head,  but  she  was  worldly- 
minded  enough  to  wish  that  it  could  be  her  own, 
and  she  could  not  help  owning  to  a  feeling  of  satis 
faction,  even  to  a  sense  of  compensation  for  the  loss 
of  Scorpion,  while  she  held  the  beautiful  glittering 
thing  in  her  open  palm. 

Even  Flower  rose  in  her  estimation  when  she 
found  that  she  had  possessed  a  gem  so  brilliant.  A 
girl  who  could  have  such  a  treasure  and  so  lightly 
part  with  it  was  undoubtedly  a  simpleton — but  she 
was  a  simpleton  who  ought  to  be  guarded  and  prized 
— the  sort  of  young  innocent  who  should  be  sur- 


OH,  FIE  !  POLLY.  275 

rounded  by  protecting  friends.  Mrs.  Cameron  felt 
her  interest  in  Flower  growing  and  growing.  Sup 
pose  she  offered  to  release  the  Doctor  of  this  weari 
some  burden.  Suppose  she  undertook  the  care  of 
Flower  and  her  diamond  herself. 

No  sooner  did  this  thought  occur  to  Mrs.  Cameron, 
than  she  resolved  to  act  upon  it.  Of  course  the 
Doctor  would  be  delighted  to  part  with  Flower. 
She  would  see  him  on  the  subject  at  once. 

She  went  slowly  upstairs  and  knocked  with  a 
calm,  steady  hand  at  the  door  of  the  dressing-room 
which  opened  into  Dr.  Maybright's  apartment.  No 
sound  or  reply  of  any  kind  came  from  within.  She 
listened  for  a  moment,  then  knocked  again,  then 
tried  to  turn  the  handle  of  the  door.  It  resisted 
her  pressure,  being  locked  from  within. 

Mrs.  Cameron  raised  her  voice.  She  was  not  a 
person  who  liked  to  be  opposed,  and  that  locked  door, 
joined  to  that  most  exasperating  silence,  became  more 
than  trying.  Surely  the  Doctor  was  not  deaf  as  well 
as  blind.  Surely  he  must  hear  her  loud  demands, 
even  though  a  dressing-room  stood  between  his 
room  and  the  suppliant  without. 

And  surely  the  Doctor  would  have  heard,  for 
a  more  polite  man  never  lived,  were  it  not  for 
that  all  mischievous  and  irrepressible  Polly.  But 
she,  being  left  in  charge,  had  set  her  sharp  brains 
to  work,  and  had  devised  a  plan  to  outwit  Mrs. 
Cameron.  The  dressing-room  in  question  con 
tained  a  double-baize  door.  This  door  was  seldom 
or  never  used,  but  it  came  in  very  conveniently  now, 
for  the  furtherance  of  Polly's  plan.  When  it  was 
shut,  and  thick  curtains  also  drawn  across,  and  when, 
in  addition,  the  door  leading  into  Dr.  Maybright's 
room  was  securely  fastened  and  curtained  off,  Polly 
felt  sure  that  she  and  her  father  might  pass  their 


276  POLLY. 

morning  in  delicious  quietude.  Not  hearing  Mrs 
Cameron,  she  argued  with  herself  that  no  one  could 
possibly  blame  her  for  not  letting  her  in.  Therefore, 
in  high  good  humor,  this  young  lady  sat  down  to 
read,  work,  and  chatter  gaily.  As  the  Doctor  listened, 
he  said  to  himself  that  surely  there  never  was  in  the 
world  a  sweeter  or  more  agreeable  companion  than 
his  Polly. 

With  all  her  precautions,  however,  as  the  hours 
flew  by,  sundry  muffled  and  distant  sounds  did  pene 
trate  to  the  sick  chamber. 

"  What  a  peculiar  noise !  "  remarked  the  Doctor. 

"  Can  it  be  mice  ?  "  queried  Polly's  most  innocent 
voice. 

More  time  passed. 

Suddenly  the  sharp  and  unmistakable  sound  of 
gravel  being  flung  against  the  window  forced  the 
young  lady  to  go  to  ascertain  what  was  the  matter. 

On  looking  out,  she  saw  what  caused  her  to  utter 
an  amazed  exclamation. 

Mrs.  Cameron,  very  red  in  the  face,  and  holding 
the  lost  Scorpion  in  one  encircling  arm,  while  the 
other  was  thrown  firmly  round  a  most  sulky-looking 
David ;  Firefly,  pale  and  with  traces  of  tears  on  her 
face ;  Flower  looking  excited  and  eager — all  stood 
under  the  window.  This  group  were  loud  in  demand 
ing  instant  admission  to  the  Doctor's  room. 

"  What  is  it,  what  is  it  ?  "  questioned  the  patient 
from  the  bed. 

"Oh,  you  are  not  strong  enough  to  see  them, 
father." 

"  To  see  whom  ?  " 

"  Aunt  Maria — Scorpion — the  children." 

"  Yes,  I  am  quite  strong  enough.  Let  them  come 
up  at  once." 

«  But  father !  " 


OS,  FIE  !  POT^Y. 

"But  Polly!  You  don't  suppose  seriously  that 
your  Aunt  Maria  can  disturb  my  equanimity  ?  " 

"  Oh  !     She  will  worry  you  with  so  many  tales." 

"  About  my  very  naughty  family  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes ;  you  bad  much  better  not  see  her." 

"Because  she  wants  me  to  get  a  chaperon  for 
you?" 

"  Oh  !  yes — oh  I  don't  see  her." 

"  My  dear,  you  can  trust  me ;  you  happen  to 
be  my  childien,  not  hers.  I  would  rather  have  the 
matter  out.  I  knew  there  was  something  wrong 
from  the  way  little  Fly  kissed  my  hand  this  morn 
ing.  Show  the  deputation  outside  the  window  into 
the  audience  chamber  at  once,  Polly." 

So  admonished,  the  curtains  had  to  be  drawn 
back,  the  baize  door. reopened,  and  Polly — a  most 
unwilling  hostess — had  to  receive  her  guests.  But 
no  words  can  describe  the  babel  of  sounds  which 
there  and  then  filled  the  Doctor's  room ;  no  words 
can  tell  how  patiently  the  blind  man  listened. 

Aunt  Maria  had  a  good  tale  to  tell,  and  it  lost 
nothing  in  the  telling.  The  story  of  Scorpion's  dis 
appearance  ;  of  the  wickedness  of  David  and  Fly  ; 
of  the  recovering  of  the  little  animal  from  the  man 
who  had  bought  it  through  Flower's  instrumentality ; 
all  this  she  told,  following  up  with  the  full  and  partic 
ular  history  of  the  sale  of  a  valuable  diamond.  At 
last — at  long  last — the  good  lady  stopped  for  want  of 
breath. 

There  was  a  delicious  pause,  then  the  Doctor  said, 
quietly — 

"  In  short,  Maria,  you  have  never  come  across  such 
absolutely  wicked  children  as  the  Maybrights  and 
Dalrymples?" 

"  No,  Andrew — never !  never  ! " 

"It  is  lucky  they  are  not  your  children  ?" 


POLL?. 

fc  Thank  Heaven  f 

"  Would  it  not  be  well  to  leave  them  to  me  ?  1 
am  accustomed  to  them." 

"  Yes  ;  I  wash  my  hands  of  you  all ;  or  no — not 
quite  of  you  all — I  heap  coals  of  fire  on  your  head, 
Andrew;  I  offer  to  relieve  you  of  the  charge  of 
Daisy  Rymple." 

"  Of  Flower  ? — but  she  is  one  of  the  worst  of  us." 

Here  Flower  ran  over,  crouched  down  by  the 
Doctor,  and  put  one  of  her  hands  into  his. 

"  But  I  will  be  good  with  you,"  she  said  with  a 
half-sob. 

"  Hear  her,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  She  says  she  will 
be  good  with  me.  Perhaps,  after  all,  Maria,  I  can 
manage  my  own  children  better  than  any  one  else 
can." 

"  Daisy  is  not  your  child — you  had  better  give  her 
to  me." 

"  I  can't  part  with  Flower ;  she  is  an  excellent 
reader.  I  am  a  blind  man,  but  she  scarcely  allows 
me  to  miss  my  eyes." 

Flower  gave  a  low,  ecstatic  sob. 

"  And  you  will  allow  her  to  part  with  valuable 
gems  like  this  ?  " 

"Thanks  to  you,  Maria,  she  has  recovered  her 
diamond." 

"  Andrew,  I  never  met  such  an  obstinate,  such  a 
misguided  man  !  Are  you  really  going  to  bring  up 
these  unfortunate  children  without  a  chaperon  ?  " 

"I  think  you  must  allow  us  to  be  good  and 
naughty  in  our  own  way." 

"  Father  is  looking  very  tired,  Aunt  Maria,"  here 
whispered  Polly. 

"My  dear,  jTam  never  going  to  fatigue  him  more. 
Andrew,  I  wash  my  hands  of  your  affairs.  Daisy, 
take  your  diamond.  At  least,  my  little  precious 


ONE  YEAR  AFTER.  279 

dog,  I  have  recovered  you.    We  return  to  Bath  by 
the  next  train." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

ONE    YEAR    AFTEB. 

"  HELEN,  here's  a  letter." 

«  Yes.     Who  is  it  for  ?  " 

« I  think  it's  for  us  all.  See :  *  the  Misses  May- 
bright  and  Miss  Dalrymple.' " 

M  Well,  where's  Flower  ?  We  can't  open  it  till 
Flower  comes  down.  It  must  be — yes,  it  must  be 
about  father !  You  know  it  was  yesterday  his  eyes 
were  to  be  operated  on." 

"  As  if  I  didn't  know  it,  Nell !  I  never  closed  my 
eyes  last  night.  I  felt  nearly  as  bad  as  that  awful 
day  a  year  ago  now.  I  wish  I  might  tear  open  this 
envelope.  Where  is  Flower?  Need  we  wait  for 
her?" 

"  It  would  be  unkind  not  to  wait !  No  one  feels 
about  father  as  Flower  does." 

"  David,  please  call  her  this  instant ! " 

David  flew  out  of  the  room,  and  Polly  began  to 
finger  the  precious  letter. 

"  It's  thick,"  she  said ;  "  But  I  don't  think  there's 
much  writing  inside.  Yes,"  she  continued,  "  Flower 
is  certainly  very  sensitive  about  father.  She's  a 
dear  girl.  All  the  same,  I'm  sometimes  jealous  of 
her" 

«  Oh,  dear  Polly  !  why  ?  " 

"  Father  thinks  so  much  of  her.  Yes,  I  know  it's 
wrong,  but  I  do  feel  a  little  sore  now  and  then. 
Not  often  though,  and  never  when  I  look  into 
Flower's  lovely  eyes." 


2SO  POLLY. 

"  She  is  very  sweet  with  father,"  said  Helen.  "  It 
seems  to  me  that  during  this  past  year  she  has 
given  up  her  very  life  to  him.  And  did  you  ever 
hear  any  one  read  better  ?  " 

"  No,  that's  one  of  the  reasons  why  I'm  devoured 
with  jealousy.  Don't  talk  to  me  about  it,  it's  an 
enemy  I  haven't  yet  learnt  to  overcome.  Ah  !  here 
she  comes." 

"  And  Fly,  and  the  twins ! "  echoed  Helen. 
u  Here's  a  letter  from  father,  Flower.  At  least,  we 
think  so.  It's  directed  to  us  and  to  you." 

A  tall,  very  fair  girl,  with  soft,  shining  eyes,  and  a 
wonderful  mane  of  yellow  hair  came  up  and  put  her 
arm  round  Polly's  neck.  She  did  not  smile,  her  face 
was  grave,  her  voice  shook  a  little. 

"Open  the  letter,  Helen,"  she  exclaimed  im 
patiently. 

"  Don't  tremble  so,  Flower,"  said  Polly. 

But  she  herself  only  remained  quiet  by  a  great 
effort,  as  Helen  unfastened  the  thick  envelope, 
opened  the  sheet  of  paper,  and  held  it  up  for  many 
eager  pairs  of  eyes  to  read. 

"  My  Children, — I  see  again,  thank  God. 

"  Your  Father  and  loving  Friend." 

"  There ! "  said  Polly.  "  Oh,  I  can't  talk  about  it. 
Flower,  you  are  silly  to  cry.  Will  no  one  dance  a 
hornpipe  with  me?  I'll  choke  if  I  don't  laugh. 
You're  the  one  to  dance,  Fly.  Why,  you  are  crying, 
too.  Ridiculous  !  Where's  the  letter  ?  Let's  kiss 
it  all  round.  That'll  make  us  better.  His  own 
blessed  writing !  Isn't  he  a  darling  ?  Was  there 
ever  such  a  father  ?  " 

"  Or  such  a  friend  ?  "  exclaimed  Flower.  "  I  said 
long  ago,  and  I  say  again  now,  that  he's  the  best  man 


ONE  YEAR  AFTER.  281 

in  the  world,  and  I  do  really  think  that  some  day 
he'll  tur.i  me  into  a  good  girl." 

"Why,  you're  the  nicest  girl  I  know  now,"  said 
Polly. 

And  then  they  kissed  each  other. 


THE  ENB. 


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